Raphael
by Supaflywriterguy
Summary: Oroku Shinzo and his sister, Oroku Karai, have been raised by their father and master, Oroku Saki, on the remote island of Tamashi, training in the shadow arts. When an omen long awaited arrives, their father sends his children to the far away land of America, in search of something he desires very deeply. (TMNTU Phase 1: Origin, Book 2)
1. Chapter 1: Beginning

**Author's Note:** The story you are about to read is the second in a series. You might want to read _Book 1: Casey Jones_ first, or a few things might not make much sense. That said, enjoy!

* * *

"/Used properly, rage is a powerful ally. Stowed away, or channelled improperly, and it will become your greatest enemy. Anger is the double edged sword. The two headed serpent. I see it in both of you, my young students. You must both learn to harness it. Control it. Do not let _it_ control _you_. Only when you have mastered your emotions will you be able to continue down the path of the _shinobi./_ "

The voice of my father seemed to come from all directions, the metallic whisper of his helmet tainting his normally smooth bass, making it harsh. The room in which I knelt was completely dark, with no light entering and no light within. I heard the quiet breath of my sister beside me, but I sensed nothing of my _sensei._

"/It is disadvantageous to fight an enemy you cannot see,/" he continued, "/but more often than not, your enemy will not give you the luxury of advantage. Defend yourselves!/"

I only hesitated for a mere fraction of a second, but that was far too long. Something slapped me on the back of the head, and I fell forward onto my hands and knees. Before I could react, another blow from the same weapon struck my back, rattling my shell. Neither of these attacks hurt me too much, just knocked me off balance slightly. I heard a shout as my sister was thrust into battle with our opponent. There was a clang of metal on metal, and I used the time afforded to me by this conflict to pull myself up to my feet. From my belt I pulled my weapons of choice: the _sai._

The _sai_ are traditional ninja weapons. They resemble large daggers, with three prongs; two short prongs on either side of a much longer one. Commonly weilded as pairs, the _sai_ are the ultimate in defense, able to catch and deflect almost any weapon. Their sturdiness comes at the price of range, as to use them offensively one must get in very close quarters with their enemy. At the moment, I was focused on primarily defending myself, as instructed. The darkness around me remained impenetrable, and I focused as hard as I could on listening to the battle between my sister and father.

Just as I was beginning to track the movements of the other two, I was struck on the side of the head. I swiped at the now vanished enemy, finding nothing but empty darkness. As I extended my senses towards this new attacker, another strike arrived, this time on my rear end. I spun around to throw a slash at this attack, but I was too slow, and another blow collided with my head. I snarled, and the cycle continued. I was always too slow, the enemy was always too fast. It wasn't fair. I gnashed my teeth, hissing a breath through them, trying to attack where I thought my enemy would come from next. My _sai_ found nothing. Again.

My body started to heat up, first in my face, and then spreading until a thin layer of sweat covered my entire body. My breaths were sharp and fast, my brow deeply furrowed. With a shout, I began to swing blindly, striking out at the darkness itself that surrounded me. I would eventually hit something. However my enemies were too quick, their senses too sharp, and I found nothing of the sort. My anger grew. Then, all of a sudden, there it was. A missed step, a weakness. I heard the scuff of a boot on the ground.

Without a moments thought, I lunged towards the sound, tackling the owner of the boot and slashing at them wildly with my _sai_. My blows caught metal, and there was a repeated _clang clang clang_ as our weapons met, the opposition just as fast in their defense as I was in my assault. This went on for a while, my attacks getting sloppier and more aggresive with each failed strike. Then, with a roar of rage, I stabbed straight down, my weapon finding purchase in something fleshy. An unexpectedly feminine cry of pain split the air.

"/ _Enough!/_ " My father said sternly. I immediately backed away from the enemy I had placed myself on top of, scooting back and away from her. I heard the sharp strike of a match being lit, and within moments the training room was illuminated by several candles. The room, which I had spent much of my fourteen years inside, was longer than it was wide. The cieling was high, and both it and the walls were made of a dark wood. The floor was covered in a frayed red material, and on the far end there was a raised platform, surrounded by candles. On this platform was a tall throne, with red cushions.

Seated in the throne was my father, Oroku Saki. He was clad in his ceremonial armor: a glinting metal chest piece with bladed shoulderpads over black robes. Tied around his waist was a thick red sash, and on his arms were metal gauntlets, covered in serrated blades. On his head rested his _kabuto_ , the helmet of a Clan Leader. The piece, metal and shimmering, had a bladed crest and a hanging neck gaurd of chain linked metal. Standing beside him were a pair of men clad in black, with red headbands wrapped around their brows. They each held a bo staff.

Behind me, there was a sharp intake of breath. I turned to find my sister, Oroku Karai, glaring at me. Karai was a petite girl, with straight, black hair falling just above her shoulders. Her almond shaped eyes were nearly black, and shone like a knife in the dark. She was clad in the same black robes and headband as the ninjas beside the throne, and she bore a red sash similar to our fathers. She dropped my bloody _sai_ onto the ground beside her with a _clack_ , holding the wound with her hand. Father snapped his fingers.

"/Bandage her,/" he said. One of the ninjas nodded.

"/Yes, Master Shredder,/" he said, walking forward briskly. While he produced bandages and began to clean and wrap the stab wound, Karai didn't even look at him. Her eyes were on the ground. At one point she glanced up at me, meeting my eyes, and then both of us cast our gazes downward. When the ninja was done with his job, he returned to his post beside the throne. I dropped to one knee before my father, and Karai did the same. There was a beat of silence before he spoke.

"/I hope the lesson I have taught you is clear, my children,/" he said. I pursed my lips, eyes searching the floor for nothing in particular. "/Anger will bewitch your mind. It will cloud your judgement. You must not let it do so. When using the shadow art of _genjutsu,_ you must think clearly. An impaired mind will surely get you killed, or else much, much worse. Now, go. Today's training is complete./" He waved a hand in dismissal.

"/ _Hai, Sensei/_ " Karai and I said in unison, bowing to our father before turning and exiting the dojo. The bright light of day stung my eyes as it hit me, and I threw up a three-fingered hand to deflect the sun's rays. Squinting beneath my fingers, I turned to speak with my sister, who was already several paces ahead. I jogged to catch up with her, easily keeping pace with her shorter legs. She stared straight ahead.

"/I'm sorry, sister,/" I said after a few moments of walking wordlessly. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. She did not change her demeanor at all. After a minute of walking along the stone path that lead to our father's dojo, we began to descend the steps down the mountainside. Below, I could see all of Tamashi Island, my home.

The vast pastures and fields where the farmers of the clan toiled every day to bring the harvest stretched into the city, where many of the residents lived. From up here, the only sound was the wind, and the gulls upon it, but I knew that once we arrived in Tamashi City we would be greeted with the bustle of automobiles and people. Many, many people. The city was several miles across, from the grand gate to the fishing docks, and when lit up by lanterns at night was truly a sight to behold.

After a contented sigh, I realized that in taking in the island's beauty (as I always did when atop the mountain) I had once again fallen behind my sister, and made haste to walk beside her once more. When I had bounded down the stairs to her side, Karai gave a short, airy laugh, a wry smile spreading across her tanned face.

"/Finished with your sightseeing, Shinzo?/" She asked, a teasing tone in her voice. I smiled sheepishly in response, and she shook her head. "/I don't know how you can stand there and be mesmerized by the same view of the same island every time we come up here,/" she said. I shrugged, the light breeze tossing both of our red headbands gently.

"/It's beautiful,/" I said simply. Karai snorted. As we continued to walk down the weathered staircase, her gaze was out across the ocean, whose green waves were as still as glass that day. The sparkling light of the sun and sea reflected in her eyes, and I saw longing there. Then, she blinked, and the sparkle was gone, her eyes returning the steps before her.

"/No, little brother,/" she said, pointing out to the horizon, "/ _that_ is beautiful./"

* * *

It took us a little more than an hour to finish our climb, and as our feet stepped from weather smoothed rock onto dusty dirt trail, my stomach growled audibly. Karai looked over at me, and we both shared a small laugh.

"/I agree with your stomach,/" she said, placing her hands on her hips and leaning backwards. I heard the quiet popping of her back cracking, and she let out a little sigh of relief. "/Let's find ourselves something to eat./"

As we entered the city, we were greeted by travellers on the road with bows and words of respect. Being the children of the Clan Leader awarded us such greetings. Karai, as always, recieved the reverence with the grace and formality that only she could. I, on the other hand, was reluctant to accept it. I was not entirely comfortable with being honored for something I had merely been born into. I had not earned these people's admiration. The thought simmered in my mind as my sister led us through town.

The smell of gasoline burning and food cooking filled my nostrils. Tamashi City was like a different island compared to the dojo's and temples where I spent most of my time. There, quiet tranquility was only interrupted with combat training. Here, the noise never ceased. On the cobblestone road beside us, an automobile glided past, it's shiny metal exterior catching the light of the paper lanterns hanging from the restaurant Karai had chosen. When we went inside, I was attacked even more with the delicious smells of food. My mouth watered.

"/Table for two,/" Karai told the hostess, who looked very nervously between us. She was a pretty girl, younger than my older sister, with long hair tied up into a complicated bun. She bowed her head, and began to lead us through the restaurant. Business was light this evening, with only a few tables full of customers, their conversations ceasing as we passed them. Karai held her nose up high, accepting the silence. I did my best to ignore the many sets of eyes trained on me as the hostess placed two menus on the table, which was located on a balcony overlooking the coast line. The sun was West bound, and I realized that in a few hours it would be nightfall. We had been training for longer than I thought.

"/Are you ready, or shall I give you a few moments?/" Our hostess said, brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, which stuck out slightly. She gave us her best smile, and I smiled back. Karai did not.

"/Pork _ramen_ , for both of us,/" she said, closing her menu and plucking mine from my hand.

"/Hey!/" I complained. My sister handed the pair of menus to our hostess, who took them and gave a quick bow before scurrying away. I made an annoyed look at my sister. "/I wanted American food,/" I said. She rolled her eyes.

"/You _always_ want American food, little brother,/" she said, leaning back in her padded chair and crossing her arms. "/I don't know why. It's so greasy and fatty. And how can you stand that much cheese?/"

"/It's delicious,/" I said, my mouth watering at the thought of a juicy hamburger, or maybe a pizza. My stomach voiced its feelings again, and I groaned quietly. Karai shook her head.

"/If you keep eating such things you will get fat, and when you are fat you are slow,/" she frowned, looking up to the sky. "/ _Shinobi_ must be swift. Silent. D-/"

"/Deadly and without trace, yes,/" I said, following her gaze. The sky above was turning from blue to a dull grey. It was going to rain soon. What an unfortunate time to be given a balcony table. I sighed, and looked back down just as a server arrived carrying two large bowls of noodle, placing one before each of us. He smiled and bowed politely.

"/Please, enjoy the meal. Compliments of the house,/" he said, before turning on his heel and retreating from the balcony. I watched him go, and when he ducked around a corner I turned back to my sister, the pair of us splitting our chop sticks. Then, my sister watched me curiously. I raised an eyebrow at her, and she gave me a gentle smile.

"/Eat up, little brother,/" she said, stretching her arms above her head. "/We start training with Master Tatsu again tomorrow, and you know how he is. This may be our last full meal for some time./"

She was right. Haitori Tatsu was our father's right hand man, and the only person I knew who might be his equal in combat. He was also a strict and demanding _sensei_ to train under. His regimine reaped results, but it was very difficult going and not for the faint of heart. Many had nearly died under his teachings. Heeding my sister's words, and the cries of my stomach, I began to eat with vigor. After she watched me for a few moments, she seemed satisfied and began to enjoy her meal as well.

I was only half way through my _ramen_ when it began to rain. At first, it was nothing, a few drops on my face that I mistook for soup. Then, without warning as rain does, it began to fall heavily, thudding dully into the roofs of the buildings all around us, and into my half empty noodle bowl. I frowned, as both Karai and I were slowly soaked through. For me, it mattered less, but my sister's clothes gained a few pounds of weight from the water they caught, and when the pair of us left our seats and entered the restaurant proper, she was quite upset.

We left the restaurant followed by a host of apologies and bowed heads. I tried to express that I was not upset, but Karai was moving quickly, and soon I had to turn from the poor employees to catch up with her. Together, we walked through the now pouring rain. Several people offered us their umbrellas, but we refused them, myself out of regard for their own dryness and my sister because she could not be seen accepting such gifts from the commoners.

"/If the people see the daughter of their Clan Leader taking the umbrella from a poor man, they will be in uproar. It will fuel discontent,/" she explained to me, turning a corner and beckoning for me to follow her into the lobby of a hotel. The building was stylized to be Japanese, but was very clearly influenced by Western culture. The man at the front desk bowed curtly, presenting us with the top of his balding head.

"/Madame Karai, Master Shinzo,/" he said, "/welcome to the Quiet Lion Hotel. Would you like the penthouse suite?/" He pulled a pair of keys off of the rack of keys behind him, and held them in his outstretched hand towards us. Karai stepped forward, taking the keys from him, and walking past him to the stairs.

"/That will do just fine, thank you,/" she said simply. I nodded my thanks, and followed Karai up the stairs.

"/Sister,/" I said, placing a hand on her shoulder as we reached the door to our room. She stopped, key midway into the lock, staring at the door. "/How is your shoulder?/" She scoffed quietly.

"/I'm fine, little brother. You hardly hit me. Only my pride was wounded,/" she said, smiling at herself. She finished unlocking the door and opened it, stepping into the penthouse. It was a wide open room, complete with a small stone fountain and a wall mounted flat screen television. A smile reached my lips as I took in the beauty of the room. In my intensive training I had very little chance for luxory, so when it was afforded to me it was very much a treat.

There were multiple beds located throughout the suite, each of them more plush than the last, all covered in soft beige blankets and fluffy white pillows. Karai removed her katana from her back, placing it on a bedside table. Then, she untied her headband and sash, and they joined the sword and sheath. She turned to me, and pulled the string that turned off her lamp.

"/Goodnight, Shinzo. Get some rest,/" she said. I heard her get comfortable in her bed, and then there was silence, only pierced by the pitter-patter of rain. I stared out the window for a while, watching the sky pour onto Tamashi City.

When I finally nodded off, I dreamed of far away lands.


	2. Chapter 2: A Painful Arrival

**Authors Note:** _Hello! I know it's been a while since I've posted, I've been getting situated for college. For those of you who are new, this story is the second in a series, following Book 1: Casey Jones. Feel free to check that one out, or don't. Up to you. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think!_

* * *

We were on the road early the next day, and by the time that the sun had risen high enough to shed light across all of the island, we had left Tamashi City many miles behind us. Sparrows sang gently, and the wind whispered a harmony as it brushed through the rice fields surrounding the dirt path that my sister and I were currently walking along. We were forbidden to use any means of transportation aside from our own two feet, as our many masters believed that these long journeys from dojo to dojo were a key part of our ninja training. I had grown accustomed to the long walks, and learned to appreciate the countryside as we traveled it. My sister, however, was never pleased when we made our journeys together.

"/It's pointless,/" Karai muttered, shattering the companionable silence we had built up all morning, her three syllables heavy with contempt. "/We are the daughter and son of the Clan Leader. One day I-/" she stopped herself, taking a deep breath and attempting, with only minor success, to calm down.

"/One day, one of us will become leader of the Foot. I do not understand why we have to trek across the rice paddies like common farmhands just to continue our _shinobi_ training,/" she said, her tone no longer acidic but more sulky, like that of a spoiled child.

"/Master Tatsu is adamant in his ways,/" I offered, adjusting the woven strap of my small bag of supplies. "/He sees the long journeys as a time to build character, and endurance… I think./" I lost confidence at the end of my speech. If I was being honest with myself, my feet were hurting and I was thirsty. I needed far more water than my sister did, being what I was.

There I went again. I never lasted more than a few days without questioning who I was. I was clearly not like my sister, or anyone else on the island I called home. Where my sister had slender, fleshy hands, with five fingers apiece, my hands were not so nice. Three bulky fingers resided on each of my green, scaled hands. My back was heavy and solid, a shell. I had no lips, no eyelashes, no protruding ears. I was a reptile. A turtle. Or, more likely, something similar yet far more sinister.

Many have called me _kappa,_ especially when I was first taken in by my father. A _kappa_ is a demon of Japanese folklore, that resembles a large turtle standing on its hind legs. Of course, _kappa_ are also supposed to carry around water in their hollow heads, and have a duck's bill, neither of which applied to me. I ran an inhuman hand across the red band that covered the majority of my visage, feeling the worn cloth. My earliest memory was attached to that band. The farthest back I could remember...

* * *

 _I knelt next to Karai, as I so often did. Before us stood our father, the Clan Leader. He wore no armor that day, only a robe, his dark hair in a tight knot on the crown of his head. He looked at the two of us with the eyes of a judge. In one of his hands he held two long strips of red cloth, and in the other was a wickedly curved knife, glinting under the firey oranges of twilight._

" _/Today, you take your first steps into the realm of shadows. Your first steps as_ shinobi. _From now on, the light is your enemy. The piercing eyes of the sun have turned against you. Your only allies are the shadows, the darkness, and your Clan. Family is a bond that must never be broken, and once you bear the red band of the Foot, you are part of our family. No matter who,/" he didn't have to look my direction for me to understand who he was addressing, "/or what you are./"_

 _My father gestured, and my sister rose, eyes looking past him, and to the sea that waited behind him, an ever present force of nature that both protected and imprisoned us. She hardly moved as the red band was tied aroung her forehead, and then pulled taught. She gave a low bow, one fist pressed into the opposite palm, and then returned to her kneel, now only on one knee. Then, my father gestured again, and it was my turn to rise._

 _There have been three instances where I have looked my father directly in the eye. This had been one of them. His face, normally hidden by his_ kabuto, _was in full display to me, his longish nose casting longer shadows across his cheek, as if working to conceal what lingered there, still, from a battle long since past. A reminder of the only foe to ever best him. I made sure to keep my gaze away from his scars, and instead fixated myself on his dark eyes, heavy and stern, nearly black. A faint light of brown still danced there, but it was losing it's battle to be seen._

 _There was a ripping sound, and then a second, with neither of us turning away. I heard my father sheath his knife, and sensed him raise his arms, pulling the band around my head. He had cut two holes into the band, where my eyes would go. He must have seen my moment of confusion, because he spoke to me, then. It remains the most important thing he has ever said to me._

" _/Shinzo. You may think I have placed your band around your face so that you will be hidden from a world that will judge you,/" he said. I did not respond. He almost smiled, but the motion made the left side of his face distort in ways he did not like, so the expression was frozen and then melted before it could be completed._

" _/This is not the case, my son. The band is placed as it is so that you will never lose sight of your path. It is there to guide you,/" he placed a hand on my shoulder as he said this, gently. The most gentle he had ever been to me. "/It is there so that when the time comes for you to make great decisions in your life, you will see the red band of your family on all sides, and know that we are with you, and we are sure you will make the right choice./"_

* * *

His words echoed inside my heart as my mind returned to the present. Karai and I slipped to the side of the road as a cart drawn by two mules rolled past us, the driver giving us both a pleasant smile. I waved to him. Karai did not.

The rest of the journey was uninterrupted by conversation, as the two of us slowly felt the dread that accompanied visits to Master Tatsu's dojo. Of the four instructors my sister and I had, he was the most deliberately brutal. I nearly shuddered, thinking of our past experiences with him, and by the time that the path had faded from dirt into stone hexagons, I was deep in thought, trying to imagine what horrible training our master had planned for us.

The stone path, hot on my feet from it's hours of baking under the sun, led us the the tall wooden walls surrounding Master Tatsu's dojo, and more specifically, to the two iron doors that interrupted them. Karai strode up to them, with no hesitation, and rapped on them with the side of her fist. The resulting _bang bang bang_ lingered in the midday air for a few moments, before they were responded to by a _clack._ The heavy doors slid forward, and standing between them was a man the same age as our father.

Master Tatsu was not a tall man, but he was incredibly muscular. His bald head glistened softly under the sweltering sun. His face was covered only by a thin mustache and a scowl, and his heavy set eyebrows were deep black. He wore a training _gi,_ and it was clear by the sweat that covered him that he had been training before we had arrived. He gave us a curt bow, which we returned, and then stepped aside, allowing us access the dojo beyond the doors.

Our father's dojo was beautiful, almost garden like, with fountains and grassy hills separated by dozens of huts and training areas, creating a scenic mountaintop atmosphere. Master Tatsu's dojo was nothing like our father's.

All accounted for, the dojo consisted of a single shelter for sleeping, a single stone training area, and a single well for fetching water. Weapons and other things required for training in the way of ninja were held on racks surrounding the stone rectangle where we would spend the next long weeks. Three mats, made entirely of straw, lay in the shelter, and nothing else. Karai and I placed our small bags next to the mats, and removed our sandals as instructed by Master Tatsu. We met him in the center of the training square. Not a moment of rest, even the first day. This was very much like him.

"/You have grown weak and soft,/" he said, looking at us across folded arms. "/I am going to rectify that. As you enter your last year of _shinobi_ training, you will have no breaks. You will train with me for the summer, with Master Kitsune in the autumn, Master Shinigami in the winter, and with Lord Saki come the spring time./"

I realized only as Tatsu spoke it that we were nearly at the end of our training, and well on our way to becoming full fledged ninja. The thought excited me, but also made me very nervous. Karai always told me that in the final years of a ninjas training, the difficulty increases tenfold and the techniques go beyond martial arts and meditation. I gulped down my anticipation, and listened to our Master's first instructions of the summer.

"/You will spar, on my command. No weapons,/" he said simply, moving away from us. I blinked, and looked after him. My feet were sore from the long journey we had just taken, and I was severely dehydrated. However, I knew not to argue with Master Tatsu, or Karai and I would be sparring well into the next morning, with no rest. My sister and I took stances on opposite ends of the training field, waiting for Master Tatsu's command. The longer I gazed across the cracked stone at my sister, the faster my heart beat.

Karai was a vicious sparring partner. She never held back, no matter the circumstances. She was just too determined. Not only that, but she was probably the most skilled fighter I had ever seen, excluding my father and Master Tatsu. I had always been hard pressed to match her in combat, and I had a feeling that today would be no different.

"/Begin!/" Tatsu said sharply.

She was on me in an instant, a flash of black and red was the only warning I had before her heel collided with my jaw, sending me a few steps backward. Giving no time for retaliation, she threw a jab at my chest. This time, I swiped it away with my left hand, going to elbow her in the jaw. She was a much smaller target than me, and significantly more agile. She ducked beneath the strike, and slithered back several paces. Then, the circling began.

It became a battle of wits, a game of chess played only with our eyes and our bodies. She went right, I countered left. She shifted to an offensive stance, I changed to defense, and so on. We went back and forth for several long moments, neither wanting to make a poorly timed attack just to be shut down.

But then I saw my moment.

I was in an offensive position, and she hesitated one step too long on switching directions. With a cry of triumph, I dashed forward, delivering a spin kick to her side, which threw her into a barrel roll. I was not as fast as her, but I hit much harder. My victory condition was timing, and catching her mistakes. So long as I-

"/Shinzo. One arm behind your back!/" Master Tatsu called to me. I spun to face him in confusion and indignation.

"/What? Master, that's not-/" I was cut off by a glare from my master. I closed my mouth, and swore at him in my head as I placed my left arm behind my back. Karai and I were circling again, and now I had a severe disadvantage. Stupid master. Why hadn't he given Karai a penalty when she struck a blow against me?

Karai came in with a low sweep, which I hopped over, and followed up with an upwards slash with her foot. I couldn't avoid it, in mid air, and took the strike to the jaw, sending me onto my back. I landed on my arm and winced in pain, before rolling quickly onto my stomach and to my feet. I caught Karai's next kick with my available forearm, and delivered a counter kick with the opposite leg. She caught my foot with both hands and twisted, flipping me side over side. I landed hard on my stomach. I went to stand, and Karai kicked my arm from under me.

I rolled away from her, avoiding the stomping kicks she was delivering my centimeters. When I was on my feet, and we were circling again, I spoke to Master Tatsu, keeping my eyes on my opponent.

"/Master, doesn't Karai need to lose a limb? She got several good blows on me,/" I said tbrough gritted teeth. My blood was boiling, I could feel it. The rage. It was building inside me.

"/Both arms behind your back, Shinzo,/" came the response. I couldn't help myself. I turned and glared at him.

"/That's not fair!/" I shouted. Then, a sharp pain in the side of my head reminded me that I was still sparring. I took a step back, and then blocked the next kick with my fist.

"/ _Both. Arms. Shinzo._ /" Tatsu shouted. I growled and spat in frustration, placing the second arm behind my back. Karai came in close, avoiding my clumsy kicks and pummeling my torso with rapid flurries of blows, bruising and battering me until it was no longer a contest and more a situation of torment, only ended when Karai delivered a wicked kick to my chest, dropping me on my seat.

"/Enough,/" Tatsu said, moving no muscle. I stood quickly, shoving away Karai's offered hand. My breath flared, and my chest heaved and ached. I was furious. I stormed over to Master Tatsu, who stood just below my height.

"/That wasn't fair, Master. Why didn't Karai get any penalties?/" I said, gesturing back at my sister to make the point. Tatsu raised one eyebrow at me.

"/Why does it matter?/" He asked. My face grew hotter.

"/Of course it matters! I could have won that fight if we had been on equal grounds!/" I snapped.

"/Ahh,/" he said, as if discovering something. "/So you wished the fight to be fair?/" At this remark, I sputtered for a second, too angry to come up with words. I went to a rack of weapons and threw them to ground, swords and staves clattering to the stones and scattering across them. I stomped away from the fallen rack, and as I made my way towards a second, I was interrupted by Tatsu's harsh voice.

"/If you cannot fight in unfair conditions, then you cannot fight at all!/" He chastised. "/A _shinobi_ must train to treat every fight as unfair. A fair fight means there is a chance you will lose. You cannot afford to lose, as a _shinobi._ You _must_ win. You have no option./"

"/Where is the honor in fighting unfairly?/" Karai chimed in, her first words since we had arrived at the dojo. Tatsu spun on her.

"/There is no honor for _shinobi!_ There is only victory or defeat, and defeat is death,/" he said. Karai tilted up her chin, crossing her arms.

"/I would rather die with honor then live without it,/" she said. Tatsu snorted, looking her up and down. I sensed judgement there, but also something else. Had I not been seeing red with anger, I would have maybe sensed sympathy. As it stood, however, I could only see Master Tatsu as an enemy, whose sole purpose and intent was to conflict with my interests.

"/We shall see if that is true, when you are truly faced with the decision,/" he said, turning away from us. "/Victory or defeat. Live, or die,/" he walked to the stone cylinder well, and pulled on the fraying rope there until a pair of wooden buckets revealed themselves. He untied each of them, and returned to the stone rectangle, letting the buckets fall from his grip and onto the ground. Karai and I glanced at the buckets, and then at each other. I could sense her distaste.

"/The heat has dried up my well. You will each fetch me a bucket full of water from the sea. You will not spill a single drop. Understood?/" He looked between us, waiting for confirmation. By this point I had calmed down slightly, but I could still feel the heat around my neck and chest. My body was sore and my muscles screamed for rest.

"/You're having us do commoner work,/" Karai complained. "/Perhaps you should be teaching us something? I don't know, maybe _ninjutsu?_ /"

I could see Tatsu restraining himself from striking her. Even if he was our father's right hand man, an unwarranted attack oustide of a spar would bringe ire from the Clan Leader. Especially if it were against his only daughter. The ninja master clenched his jaw, and took a cleansing breath. I knew this technique, because I myself did it so often.

"/Do as you are told,/" Tatsu said simply. "/And return before sundown. Or you will begin again tomorrow, and we will not continue until you complete your task./"


	3. Chapter 3: The Calm Before

We reached the beach a few hours later, panting and sweating. As the sand made it's way between my toes, I glanced up at the sky. The sun was continuing it's journey west, and the orange tint was deepening every moment. The cries of gulls and the rhythmic _swish_ of the waves sang in my ears. It took all of my effort not to simply collapse into the sand and close my eyes. I trudged towards the water, the sand feeling like mud, determination pushing me to continue. In my peripheral vision, I caught a glimpse of Karai.

She was standing still, her bucket held loosely at her side. She stared out at the ocean, and I knew that the orange and green waves were dancing in her eyes, her imagination conjuring far away lands and pictures of freedom. As I dipped my bucket into the sea, filling it to the brim with crystalline water, she remained where she was. The warm breeze that came off of the ocean played with loose strands of her hair, and it wasn't until that I approached her to ask what was wrong that she started moving towards the shoreline. She filled her bucket, and then brushed past me.

"/Come on,/" she said, barely audible over the sounds of the sea. "/The sun is almost down./"

We set out, then, at a quick pace. My legs ached, but the threat of having to repeat the same task for the entireity of the summer spurred me on. Karai and I cut through the heavy forest that stood between Master Tatsu's dojo and the seashore. It had been much slower going the opposite way, as Karai had needed to use her sword to cut through the brush. This direction, the path had already been cut, and we made significantly better time. The only handicap to our speed was the need to keep the buckets from spilling, and thus restarting our task.

As we ran, I pondered what Karai had been thinking of. I knew of her desire to leave Tamashi, and sometimes I couldn't blame her. It occasionally felt like we were being herded, like sheep in a pasture. Coralled from one dojo to another our whole lives, knowing nothing but training and the lessons our father taught us. The only time that freedom seemed to reach us were our visits to Tamashi City, out of reach of our masters. As I began to think about the city, I realized how much I preferred the urban enviornment to these overgrown forests, barren dirt paths, and stonework dojos.

The feeling of silence. Utter quiet, only penetrated by the sounds of nature. It was suffocating to experience. The nights spent in dojos were filled with wind, water, and the chirping of insects. There were no car engines to surround me, no sense of warmth. No people. Only myself, my sister, and our master. It was lonely and cold in the dojo. In the streets of the city, something was always moving. Something was always alive. Beyond the borders, however, barely a thing stirred. The stones were dead. The nights were dark.

We stepped foot onto the old stones of Master Tatsu's dojo just moments before the last shreds of light left the sky. We found him where we had left him, with his hands pressed together at his core, and his eyes closed. His mustache twitched slightly as he sensed us, and he opened his time-wrinkled eyes slowly.

"/The sun has set. You have failed,/" he said.

I dropped my bucket to the ground.

The next few seconds were a blur of pain and movement. Blinded as I was by frustration in that moment, I attempted to attack Master Tatsu. Exhausted, inexperienced, and unfocused as I was, I think it is safe to assume that he dispatched me easily, and left me to grumpily eat a cold bowl of rice that had been left by my mat, and then to drift off into an uncomfortable and angry sleep.

* * *

My sister and I made the trek from dojo to shore and back many more times over the next four weeks. In the mornings we would wake up, eat cold rice, vegetables, and chicken, and then Master Tatsu would have us scrub the stones of the sparring area. Once we finished that chore, we would carry large blocks of cement from one end of the dojo to the other, back and forth until he saw fit. By this time it was midday, and Karai and I were afforded a moment to rest and drink water, which we thankfully did. The days were hot, much warmer than any summer I could remember.

After that, our respite would be interrupted with sparring. We took turns sparring with Master Tatsu for most of remaining daytime, and ended with a spar against one another. This spar would last for a very long time, lengthening each day as both Karai and my skills became sharper and sharper. We grew together, hardened by our daily tasks, and by the end of the third week our fights were so fast and furious that even Master Tatsu seemed intruiged by the outcomes.

Each day, when we had finished our sparring, the sky would be a deep orange, nearly fallen into nightfall, and Master Tatsu would pull up the old knotted rope from the well. The buckets would show their ugly faces, filling my sister and I with annoyance at the sheer sight of them, and he would place them on the stone platform, telling us that we must bring him full buckets of sea water before nightfall. Each time, Karai and I would rush to the beach as quickly as our tired limbs could carry us, filling our buckets before making a mad dash back to the dojo. Each night, it seemed, time sped up. We were never able to make it. We were always just a hair too late, and we would be stung with the news that we would be repeating the excersizes tomorrow.

On the last morning of the fourth week, I had an idea. I rose, hastily eating my cold breakfast, excited with the thought of moving on with my training. Karai, as usual, was awake before me, daintily eating her meal. She had complained heavily to me about the food we were given in the first week, but since then her general air of protestation had become one of near-silent determination. She hardly spoke, and everything she did seemed deliberate and timed, like she was restraining herself.

We did our morning chores, as usual, Master Tatsu eyeing us critically from his perch above the sparring ground, arms crossed over his muscular chest. The morning, like all mornings that summer, was far too hot. It only took a few minutes for Karai and I to start sweating intensely. I did my chores with a renewed vigor that day, inspired by my own idea.

When the time came for Karai and I to spar, I had a small smile tugging at my face. She didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she said nothing. We both took our usual positions on either side of the sparring ground, waiting for Master Tatsu's command. As usual, the sun was making it's way westward, ready to settle down for the evening. We had precious little time.

"/Begin!,/" came Master Tatsu, mercifully. Karai began to circle, but I had other plans. I barreled straight towards her, ducked low, aiming for her legs. The stones flew underneath me as I made ground, and I could sense Master Tatsu's eyebrow raise. Karai furrowed her own brow as I dashed, and just before we collided, she jumped, one hand finding purchase on the top of my head. She flipped over me, giving a swift kick to my hindquarters that sent me out of the sparring square, ensuring her victory in the spar.

And the completion of my plan.

"/Enough!/" Tatsu said, holding up a closed fist. Karai brushed a strand of dark, black hair from her face, one hand on her hip. Her expression was one of annoyance, but it was mostly hidden. "/Karai, you are victorious this evening. Shinzo, in the future, perhaps use your brain. It is there for a reason./"

"/Yes, _sensei,_ /" I said, giving an insencere bow. He grunted, and made his way over to the well. Karai sidled up beside me, her mouth just below my ear.

"What was that?" She muttered. For a moment I was thrown off. I couldn't understand her. Once she repeated herself, I realized she was speaking English, so that Master Tatsu wouldn't understand us. It was a trick we hadn't used since we were much younger. I stuck my tongue into my cheek, crossing my arms across my chest.

"What you mean?" I asked, avoiding her gaze. My English was never as good as my sister's, and years without practise were not helping. I watched as Master Tatsu untied the two buckets, my feet tingling with anticipation. Karai crossed her arms, mirroring me.

"I know you're smarter that that," she said, keeping her voice low. She tapped at the stonework of the sparring ground with the toe of her tabi. "Why did you throw away the spar?"

There was the familiar clatter of the two wooden buckets falling to the ground before us. Master Tatsu gave a displaying gesture with his hands.

"/You will take these buckets to the coast and fill them with water from the sea,/" he began. "/Once you have, you will return here with the buckets, with not a single drop spilled. Furthermore, you will do so before sundown, or tomorrow you shall begin the same day again./"

I nodded, eager to get moving. Karai gave me the side eye.

"/Begin!/" Tatsu said harshly.

Karai and I were off before he finished the phrase, not even slowing to grab the buckets, but scooping them up in stride, never a moment lost. We sprinted through the familiar tree line, through the path that had been worn down by our feet in the previous weeks, what had once taken us hours to traverse now taking mere minutes. We burst from the other side of the thicket, taking long strides across the sand and towards the waves, which were docile today.

We didn't stop moving. We ran along the coast to fill the buckets, and in the same arc of movement were flying up the dunes in the direction we had came, our eyes on the forest ahead. The sky above was still a brilliant orange, with minutes to spare before the sun hid itself completely for the evening. I practically laughed with excitement. We were finally moving on. We would finally be rid of the repetition and begin our real training with Master Tatsu.

The feeling of joy that washed over me when we crossed into the dojo, still under the waning sky, was impossible. After so many nights of trying and trying, my sister and I had finally accomplished what we had set out to do many weeks ago. We gingerly set down our buckets before a seemingly unimpressed Master Tatsu, making sure not to spill even a single drop of water. After we had set them down, we kneeled before our buckets, waiting for our master to speak.

"/I see,/" he said, eyes closed in thought. "/I now understand why you threw away your spar. You did so in order to buy yourselves more time to complete your task. A smart decision./"

He took a few steps forward, stooping slightly to pick up the buckets. I stole a glance towards my sister, who was locked onto Master Tatsu. Although she did not show it, I sensed her eagerness to move on was equal to mine. She did not like this stagnate training any more than I did. I returned my attention to the master, as he took a breath to speak again.

"/This was a test of mind, not speed,/" he said, carrying the buckets over to the well and unceremoniously dumping their contents down. "/You would have never had enough time to get the sea water. Only if one of you found a way to shorten the daily tasks I had given you would you have been able to succeed, as you have./"

He finished tying off the buckets and lowered them down into the well, before coming to stand before us once more.

"/Rest, now, while you can. The true beginning of your summer training begins tomorrow,/" he turned, and began to walk steadily towards his quarters. "/Dismissed./"

My muscles relaxed, if only slightly, and I turned to Karai. She allowed herself the tiniest smile, and I mirrored it in a much larger fashion. We rose from our kneeling positions, knees slightly aching, and made our way to the room where cold rice and vegetables lay waiting for us.

"/We finally did it, little brother,/" Karai said off-handedly, munching on her meal quietly but with more gusto than she normally managed. Her olive cheeks were a bit flushed.

"/I wonder what Master Tatsu has planned for our last summer of training,/" I pondered out loud, taking a large gulp of rice. This made Karai furrow her slight brows in thought.

"/I imagine it won't be comfortable, whatever it is. I hope it's not any more repetition. I want to actually learn something important to the _shinobi,_ to grow stronger. Don't you, Shinzo?/" She looked at me, putting down her bowl of food. I saw the intensity in her dark brown eyes, a determination that made mine seem as feeble as a child's. I finished my meal, and nodded in response.

"/Yeah,/" I said, without much enthusiasm. Now that she brought it up, and I took a moment to think about it:

Did I want to continue down the path of the ninja?

I had never chosen ninjutsu. It had been something assigned to me, as son of the Clan Leader. If I was not given ninja training, I would be a disgrace to the clan. It gave me many outlets for the intense fire that burned inside me, a place to channel my anger, but beyond that: what was it? Ninjutsu was a tool for me, not a lifestyle. To Karai, Master Tatsu, our father, it was so much more than martial arts. It was as if they saw more inside of the ninja arts that I could ever imagine seeing. As I settled down for the evening, these thoughts filled my mind, carrying me into deep sleep.


	4. Chapter 4: Ending

I was jerked away from sleep by a thunderclap, the accompanying flash of lightning attacking my eyes as I opened them, causing me to throw up an arm to cover my face. After a few blinks, my vision faded back to normal, and I took in the dojo. Karai was standing at the entrance to our sleeping quarters, fully dressed, her short sword (a blade whose length was between the longer _katana_ and dagger-like _tanto_ , called a _wakizashi_ ) in its sheath on her hip. I must have made a noise when I woke up, because she turned slightly over her shoulder at me.

"/Sleep well, little brother?/" She asked, turning her head back around to face the weather outside.

The rain was coming down harder than I had ever seen in my fourteen years on Tamashi. It didn't fall in drops but long sheets, cascading down from the sky. The water was so thick that the stones in the center of the dojo were almost entirely covered, and the grass was being flooded. I rose, tying on my leather belt and wrappings, sheathing my _sai_ and standing next to my sister. We watched the rain for a few moments, until Master Tatsu arrived, standing beneath a black umbrella with a wooden handle carved into a dragon's head.

"Hmph," he grunted, "/I was coming to wake you, but it seems you are already awoken./" He reached into the pocket of his robe and produced a pair of apples, tossing one to each of us. Then, he made his way out onto the sparring rectangle, and stood there, waiting for us to eat like a carrion bird on a lamp post.

We finished our meager breakfast quickly, and with some prodding from Master Tatsu, made our way reluctantly through the rain and onto the training rectangle. For a few agonizing moments the three of us stood in silence, Tatsu safe under his umbrella while Karai and I were made numb by the cold rain. The water seeped under my skin and shell, until I began to shiver periodically. Karai, whose skin was much thinner, was even worse for wear.

"/Today we begin the next portion of your training. Be warned: you may have thought the previous task was challenging. What you will do next will make the last exercise seem like a walk through a garden,/" he said, raising his voice above the rain and thunder. Karai's jaw clicked for a brief second before she closed it defiantly. "/Your next task-/"

Before Master Tatsu could inform us of what we would be doing next, his gaze fixed on something behind us. I turned my head, mirroring my sister, to see the tall iron doors of the dojo being pushed open, revealing an entourage of people. The first wave were clad in all black, the red of their headbands standing out dramatically in the grey light of the cloud-filled sky. Each was equipped with a _wakizashi,_ siblings to my sister's weapon. These were Foot Ninja, the warriors of our clan. They fanned out, standing in two lines, creating a path for the ones behind them.

Three figures strode forward. Taking point was my surrogate father, in all of his ceremonial glory, the rain bouncing off of his bladed helm, and sliding down the long, black cloak that hung behind him. His head was held high, and he carried himself with the intimidating confidence that only a master of the shadow arts could. To his right, and a respectful distance behind, was a woman I had not seen for some time.

She was as tall as my father, and wore white robes. The robes, form fitting and leaving little of her voluptuous figure to the imagination, were covered in blood red sigils that meant nothing to me. Her hair was chocolate colored, and hung in loose curls behind her mask. The mask was the same pattern as her robe, white with red symbols, and was formed with a pair of pointed ears and an elongated snout, so that it looked like some kind of canine.

To my father's immediate left was a women I had not seen in an equally long time. She stood much shorter than the other two, and was clad entirely in black, similarly to the Foot Ninja on either side of them. While the woman on the right was curvy and full bodied, this one was slight and thin, and looked like she was struggling with the winds that blew the rain in every direction. She too wore a mask, featureless and red, with a slash of white over one eye.

Master Tatsu gave a deep bow, and Karai and I each dropped to one knee.

"/Lord Saki… Master Kitsune, Master Shinigami,/" Tatsu said, poorly trying to hide his surprise. "/To what do I owe this visit? Surely you could have sent a messenger, and not gone out of your way/" The leader of our clan snorted, and the two women looked at one another silently.

"/This matter is far too important to be discussed by a mere messenger, Tatsu,/" my father said, gesturing for the three of us to rise. Once we had, he continued. "/This is the second rainfall we have had in as many months. We are used to little rain during the dry season, but never so much as this./"

To drive home his point, he held out a cupped hand, and we all watched as water filled the provided basin rapidly. He released his hand, and the rainwater fell to the ground, the sound masked by the cacophony of other rain drops hitting the earth at the same time.

"/The two Masters believe that this rain is an omen,/" he continued, crossing his arms across his plated chest. Tatsu shifted his stance, and I saw eagerness in his black eyes. His bushy brows perked up, and he restrained himself from stepping forward with excitement.

"/You do not mean…?/" The Master stopped himself, turning back to us briefly.

"/Anything that you would say to me can be said in front of my daughter and son, Tatsu,/" my father said. There was a long pause, filled with the constant howl of rain and wind, before Master Tatsu nodded, clearing his throat.

"/Of course, Lord Saki,/" he furrowed his brow. "/Or perhaps I should say, Lord Shredder./"

Karai and I looked at each other in confusion.

"/Shredder? Why would you call him that?/" Karai said, voicing my thoughts. The two masters turned to us, but it was Master Kitsune that spoke first, her voice somewhat muffled behind her mask.

"/It is the title of a warlord,/" she said in honey-like tones, striding forward so that she stood almost shoulder to shoulder with my father. "/This rain is no mere storm. The elements are often the truest seers, and nature rarely fails to tell us when it is time for change./"

I frowned, taking in the Master's cryptic words. I had no time to decipher them before her opposite, Master Shinigami, spoke up, her eye full of what seemed like mirth behind her red mask.

"/Yes, our Lord Shredder, as we must now call him, has long awaited this day. Even if he did not know,/" her voice rasped. I felt my skin crawl, and the chill that went down my spine was not entirely thanks to the rain. "/The storm tells us that actions must be taken. Actions that your father, our Lord _Shredder,_ has long contemplated./"

"/I wish you wouldn't speak in riddles, Masters,/" I said, frustrated with the lack of sense that I could piece together from their words. "/Warlord? What actions? What is happening here?/"

"/I see now,/" Karai clarified, to my surprise. "/You believe that it is time to seek whatever it was you lost all of those years ago./"

My memory was faintly jogged then. For many months, when I was very young, our father had cursed and muttered under his breath about something he could not find. Could not complete. A single moment was nearly crystal clear to me: my father cutting down one of his Foot Ninja that delivered to him the news of his quarry escaping once more. The rage I had seen there had settled in my heart. It was a fury I would not soon forget. Whatever it was my father wanted, he had wanted it desperately. More desperately than I had ever wanted anything.

"/But father,/" Karai's voice interrupted my memory. "/You said it yourself. Whatever it is is surely gone! Why search for something that no longer exists?/"

"/Do you not see the rain, girl?/" Shinigami countered, gesturing with long, pale hands to the water that continued to fall around us. "/The sky's message is very clear. Change. Changes./"

"/Father, you _know_ that these two are not entirely right. All respect to their abilities in the shadow arts, but these masters are not-/" Karai continued to protest.

"/I do not see where you believe it is your place to speak this way, my daughter,/" Father cut her off, his mere words striking her like physical attacks, stopping her voice in her throat. "/Your position does not place you above these masters, and you will treat them with the proper respect, or you will be punished./" He hardly even looked at her as he spoke, his dark eyes lingering only on me.

"/This sign means more to me than simply finding… What I seek,/" he continued, a clap of thunder sounding in the sky above. "/It means that changes will now come to our clan. For nearly two decades, we have lied in wait, quiet and complacent, while the outside world has forgotten us. This omen signals the end of those times. It is time for us to make ourselves known./"

"/Perhaps you should save your speech for when you inform the rest of the clan,/" Kitsune said, a teasing smile dancing through her words. My father grunted in response, neither in agreement or dispute to what she said.

"/There is much to be done before I make the announcement to our people,/" he said. I glanced to Karai, who was soaked so thoroughly that her normally loose clothing stuck to her as tightly as Master Kitsune's robe. She looked very uncomfortable, and for that I couldn't blame her. She noticed me looking at her, and furrowed her brow. She made a gesture with her eyes at the masters, as if to ask: ' _what is going on?'_ I shrugged in response.

"/As of now, and why this concerns you, my children. Your training will be coming to an end sooner than you may have anticipated,/" the newly christened Lord Shredder said. While surprised, I was less than disheartened. My hesitations regarding my place as a ninja prevented me from feeling all too upset about the abrupt finish to my regimine. For Karai, on the other hand, it was a different story.

"/ _What?_ /" She protested, stamping through the heavy puddles around us to stand in front of our father. She was practically half of his impressive height, and looked pitiful and soggy compared to his bladed regalness. "/Father, why? I- We have been training our entire lives in the way of _shinobi,_ and now that it is finally time for us to reach our full potential you simply-/"

I barely saw him move. Karai hit the ground with a heavy smacking sound, water flying up around her. I winced. Our father stood, presenting the inside of his palm.

"/You are lucky that you are my daughter, or I would not have spared you the opposite side of my hand,/" he said, twisting his wrist to show off the blades that extended from his metal gauntlet. Karai stubbornly lifted herself up to her knees, and placed one hand gingerly on her face, where a heavy red welt was already forming. She rose slowly, looking up at our father like a cornered dog. "/You will not further question my orders, or my actions. You will do as you are told. There is no honor in disobeying your Master. You would do well to remember that./"

When he said 'honor', there was a visible shift in my sister's demeanor. Her shoulders slackened, and the aura of defiance that she was exuding diminished. She was defeated by her Achilles Heel. Her virtue of honor outweighed her other desires, and she retreated two paces, standing beside me. Master Tatsu had his jaw clenched, as if he feared the next outburst from his Master would be targeted at him.

"/While I prepare the clan for our glorious resurgence and, eventually, conquest, there is something that I need done. Unfortunately, I require Tatsu at my side, and aside from him you two are the only ones competent and trustworthy enough to undertake this task. At least, that is what I had initially thought,/" his eyes stabbed my sister in the heart. "/You remember from your schooling, I'm sure, what America is. Am I mistaken?/"

Karai sucked in a breath beside me, and I myself was somewhat shocked. America? Was that where he wanted us to go? A hundred images ran through my head. Cars, pizza, shows, hamburgers, buildings that scraped the sky. From what I remembered, America was like Tamashi City, but bigger, and everywhere.

"/Once I have assembled the clan and prepared us for the return, we will need a place to begin. A base of operations in America. That is what the two of you will be responsible for. Along with a handful of ninja, you will prepare us a location from which we can expand and conquer,/" he looked between the two of us. "/Is that clear?/"

"/When do we leave, Master?/" Karai said, sounding meek. Despite that, I could sense the buzz of excitement that must have been coursing through her.

"/In three days, a boat will be prepared for you. You will go in secret: there is no need for the entire clan to be aware of your mission. As far as they know, you are continuing your training,/" our father responded, turning around and walking back the way he had entered, Kitsune and Shinigami following at his heels. Behind them came the entourage of Foot Ninja that accompanied them, and as the heavy iron doors closed, I let out a breath. Karai and I looked at one another, and for the first time my elder sister showed some signs of her youth. A half smile cracked her face, her eagerness for the journey ahead very apparent.

"/We're finally getting off of this awful island,/" she said, practically cackling with delight. I smiled in return. While not to the extent of my sister, I was also excited. The thought of a great, big city to explore intrigued me. The two of us discussed our ideas of what America would be like for the rest of the day while we dried and warmed ourselves inside of the sleeping quarters, huddled around a small basin fire that Master Tatsu had prepared for us. When nightfall came, the sunset was invisible, masked my rainfall that never halted, never ceased. We had become so used to the constant sound that it didn't even hinder us from falling into light, dream-filled slumbers.

* * *

Three days felt like hours, my sister and I's eagerness to embark making the rain-filled days pass quickly. We were waiting impatiently on the dock with Master Tatsu when our vessel rounded the bend of the island and came into view.

The ship was a simple looking house boat, suitable for a half dozen people to live on for a few weeks at a time. On the deck I could see the figures of Foot Ninja, unmasked and concealing their weapons under bright yellow raincoats. We had been informed that, in order to keep the return of the clan as discreet as possible, we would be disguised as a group of fishermen. Of course, that meant that I would have to spend any run-ins with other boats below deck.

Lord Shredder arrived just as the Foot Ninja finished loading the necessary provisions onto the ship (weapons, rations, and similar items.) It did not take long for Shinigami and Kitsune to seemingly materialize at his either side, as always disguised by their masks. Our father, however, did not wear his armor, but his robes. Kitsune held a large, white umbrella above the both of them, while Shinigami seemed content with being doused. Karai had not waited for his blessing, but had already boarded the ship. I waited for him as he approached, waiting to hear what he had to say.

To my surprise, he placed a worn hand on my shoulder. Rarely was I shown any form of affection, especially not from my father. He gave me a firm look with his scarred face, and nodded. I returned the nod.

"/Never forget, Shinzo, who your family is. Where your loyalties lie. The Foot Clan is your home. That is why you bear the red band,/" he emphasized his point by touching my forehead with two fingers. "/Good luck on your journey, my student./"

"/Goodbye, Master,/" I said. We bowed to one another, and there were no further pleasantries. Not that I expected any. That short, simple exchange had been more than I had ever thought my father would have done. I made my way onto the ship, the moment still lingering on my mind. I turned over my shoulder as I watched Tatsu stand there, arms crossed stoically, his humorless, mustached face bidding us farewell in the best way he knew how. I gave him a wave, which he did not return, and took a seat beneath an awning next to my sister.

We watched, as the great expanse of Tamashi Island grew smaller and smaller still, until it completely disappeared underneath grey mist and rain. We were silent, nobody speaking. The sound of the ships motor, the rain, and the waves kept us company as we set course for new journeys, and a future that our father had planned for our clan. Our family.

I was not prepared for what came next.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you so much for reading! I would really appreciate a review, telling me what you think about this chapter, the book, or the series at large! Thank you.


	5. Chapter 5: Cold Feet

Where was I?

My head lanced with pain the moment I tried to move. I pressed my forehead against the cold, wet rocks of the shoreline. The people on the dock above me spoke back and forth, and it took me a long time to determine what they were saying. My head was fuzzy. I lay there for a while longer, until the headache was at least partially gone, and then I opened my eyes.

The sunlight hit me like a punch in the face, and forced me to squint. The blue of the sky was only interrupted occasionally by a wispy cloud. I was lying on my stomach on a bed of rocks, the near-freezing water of the ocean lapping at my toes. Above me, mostly hiding me from the afternoon sunlight, was a metal dock. There was no beach, just a concrete wall that stood several feet tall and kept the ocean at bay, and on top of the wall was…

Snow.

White and powdery, snow was everywhere in sight. I sat up, rubbing my arms against the chill of the air and water, and continued to look around. I made my way up the miniature rock bed beneath the dock, and climbed up a support beam, my hands nearly sticking to the frozen metal. I pulled myself up over the side of the dock, standing and brushing snow off of my knees and the front of my shell. For a moment, there was quiet. The conversation stopped. The wind whistled a bit.

Then, there were screams.

All at once, the people standing on the dock shouted at the tops of their lungs, scrambling in all directions like a bunch of insane people. I frowned at them, and after a brief moment, I realized they were running from me. I looked down at myself, and in the process remembered that I wasn't a human. These people, fleshy and five fingered. Shell-less. I wasn't like them. They all ran in horror at whatever I was. As I thought about this, and the crowd disappeared, I realized another thing.

I couldn't remember my own name. I couldn't remember what I had been doing before I woke up on those rocks, or where I had been. Nothing. I racked my brain, which made my almost forgotten headache throb worse than before. I grit my teeth. Pulling a _sai_ from my belt, I stabbed into a nearby wooden telephone pole, venting a bit of my frustration at my own pain. It made things worse. Why had I been asleep, half in the sea? Where was I?

I must have been really fuzzy in the head, because of all of the things I had been realizing upon waking up, this one was the biggest.

In front of me were buildings. Dozens of buildings, hundreds of buildings, towering into the bright blue sky. They were huge, metal pillars that swelled up in front of me like giants. I couldn't remember anything, but I was damned sure I had never seen buildings like these before. Even though there were none nearby, for obvious reasons, I could see a ton of humans walking the snow-covered sidewalks, wrapped in long coats and scarves. I shivered, and wished that I could be as bundled as they were. Cars idled, bumper to bumper, in the streets, and as I looked once again at the tops of the buildings, I knew where I was.

New York City. The name popped into my head on its own. I had no memories associated with the name, but somehow I knew that's where I was. Nowhere else could be this huge, this impossibly gigantic. I took in every inch of this massive city, and deep inside me, something clicked. This place felt right. Maybe… this was my home? It felt like it. I felt like a New Yorker.

The police sirens felt differently.

A few blue and white squad cars were making their way towards me, struggling to slip through the thick New York traffic. Not good. I took off at a run, barely able to feel my toes. It was freezing, and running through the slush-covered streets of New York with no coat didn't help. I weaved between people. Some were startled, and others just annoyed. That's New York I guess. Or… That's what I thought New York was. From what I could remember. Which was the past few minutes. I shook my head, dashing into an abandoned alleyway. I had lost the cops, but it was probably a good idea to stay out of sight until I figured out what was going on. Even with no memory, I knew that I wasn't exactly going to fit in walking down Bleecker Street.

I spent the rest of the daylight squatting behind a dumpster, trying to keep warm and recall anything that I could, which ended up being basically nothing. I was some kind of… turtle. I think. Muscular. I had a red band tied around my face like a mask, and I wore a leather belt with matching knee and elbow pads. Maybe I was some kind of fighter? A martial artist. Maybe somebody knocked me out cold and left me on the beach. That made sense. Well who did he think he was? Picking a fight with me, and then not sticking around to make sure it was over. What a wimp. Next time I found him I was gonna-

I realized I was pacing. My body was so hot I could practically see the steam rising off of my skin. My teeth were gritted tightly, my fists clenched. Where had all this anger come from? My breaths were choppy, my heart pounding in my head. I took a few moments to try and calm down, but found that I couldn't. I slammed a fist onto the top of the dumpster, grunting in frustration. That felt pretty good, so I wailed on the thing a few more times. It felt great to hit things. Maybe I really was a martial artist.

After I finished venting a decent sized dent into the top of the dumpster, it was just about the end of daylight. Lucky for me, it was winter time and the days were short. Once darkness fell I would feel a bit more at home. Less prying eyes, waiting to run and scream and call the cops all the time. The darkness was my friend, as it was to all ninja.

 _Ninja._

I was a ninja. I practically cheered. I had remembered something, even it was a small thing. I was a ninja. Weird, that I was a ninja. In New York. Not to mention, I was a turtle. Nothing about me made any sense. I shook my head, climbing up a nearby fire escape. The moon was rising, but of course in New York that didn't really matter. All of the street lights made everything pretty well lit. Once on the roof, a blast of frigid air hit my shell, and I shivered. I needed to find a coat as soon as possible if I didn't want to end up a Turtle Ninja Popsicle.

I looked around. I was on top of what seemed like an apartment building, pretty high up. I surveyed the nearby rooftops. New York doesn't really have quiet nights, something in my gut told me, but tonight was an exception. I started at a jog, and at the edge of the roof I was on some instinct kicked in, and I propelled myself from the side, landing in a tumble on a nearby roof. Then, when I had rolled to my feet, I picked up speed, trying to avoid slipping on the snow and ice. I found a rhythm, and soon I was leaping from rooftop to rooftop, looking around for somewhere I could get a coat.

Whoever or whatever controls luck must have felt bad for my sudden amnesia, because it only took me about fifteen minutes to find a particularly short street vendor peddling off winter gear. Smart guy. I crouched on top of a nearby building, and watched as he sold some mittens and scarf to a pair of Hispanic women, who giggled and nuzzled noses as they left. One of them as holding a cup of coffee. Once they were gone, I rubbed my hands together. Time to put those ninja skills to work.

To set the record straight, I'm not a thief. At the time, of course, I couldn't remember whether or not that was true, but I was pretty sure that being a ninja didn't automatically make me a crook too. As a matter of fact, I was pretty sure that martial arts came with a code of honor or something. So when I saw the tattooed white guy with the switchblade walk up to my coat-salesman buddy, well. You can understand what happened next.

"Look, man, I don't want any trouble. Just take whatever you want, I know how it is. It's tough making it out here," the vendor said, in English. Why did I notice that? He held his hands up, backing away from his cart of clothing. The mugger, a beefy guy with an ugly face and an uglier attitude, looked over his shoulder nervously, and began to snatch up all of the cash from the vendor's little box, stuffing it into a backpack. I furrowed my brow, and began making my way down the fire escape of the building I was on. I dropped down in an alley, staying low and blending with the heavy shadows. I watched as the mugger backed away, knife still pointed at the vendor, before he turned tail and took off. The vendor was already in the process of calling the cops.

The mugger didn't get very far. Unfortunately for him, a big green foot got in the way of his legs, and he took a dive into the dirty brown snow that covered the cracked sidewalk. His knife and backpack fell from his hands, sliding a few inches on the ground.

"Hey," I said, speaking for the first time since I had woken up. I had a weird accent that I couldn't place. Definitely not New York… Weird. The mugger looked up from the ground, slowly standing. When he saw me, his jaw dropped. I sneered. "Stealing isn't very nice, you know."

"What the hell _are_ you?" He stammered, quickly snatching up his knife from the ground. My hands went to my belt, and… I found nothing. My instinct had been to reach there; did I usually have a weapon? A sword? Did that bozo that knocked me out take my sword too? Unbelievable! Thinking about more stealing got me all heated up again, and put up my fists in a fighting stance. The mugger shook his head. "Whatever the hell you are, I'm sure you don't like gettin' stabbed too much, do ya punk?"

He took a heavy, awkward slash at me. The blade was way too short for that type of attack to be very effective, and I took a half step backwards, avoiding it. Then, I swung a quick jab into his jaw. He was definitely taller than me, but I felt that I was faster, and obviously much more trained. As a matter of fact, this guy probably didn't have any training at all.

"You think carrying a knife around makes you strong?" I said, as he recoiled from my strike. He clutched his jaw tenderly, wincing. I must have got him pretty hard. I smiled, my heart pumping. This was exciting. I decided to use his own line against him. "You don't like getting punched too much, do ya punk?"

Damn, that felt good.

The mugger was clearly not a real fighter, and probably hadn't been in many scraps with a ninja that was also a giant turtle, so he took off into the night. I cat called after him for a bit, telling him to never come back, before reaching down and picking up the backpack. I strolled back down the block, to the clothing vendor, a proud grin on my face. He stared at me as I approached, and dropped the backpack on his cart.

"That mugger won't be bothering you anymore," I said to him. There was a beat of silence, and then he was gone, pushing the cart as fast as he could, mittens and coats and hats falling off. Like any true merchant, he made sure that the backpack wasn't going anywhere. I sighed, pulling on a heavy, tan trench coat. I buttoned it up, thankful for the relief from the harsh cold. I dusted some snow off of a wide brimmed hat and planted it on my head, low enough that in the shadows of the night time it hid my face. I shoved my freezing hands into the deep pockets of the coat, and strode down the road in a different direction than the vendor.

I looked up at the sky as I watched, at the moon. It was half full, and crystal clear in the crisp winter air. I frowned, as I heard the police sirens again in the distance behind me. I grumbled to myself. This was my life, huh?

Well, it wasn't too bad.


	6. Chapter 6: A Harsh Reception

I spent the next couple weeks sleeping wherever I could find that was warm or hidden. I rarely found both. One night, I was sleeping next to some other rough looking people around a fire they had made in a metal garbage can. They were nice people, and though I made it a point to hide my face and hands, they treated me well. They even shared some of the canned food that they had. I thanked them many times over. Another night, I slept alone inside of a dumpster. Well… not alone. There were a few rats to keep me company.

Overall, the days had left me tired, cold, and very hungry. I kept track of the time and days by making it a point to walk past stores that were selling T.V's. The news would usually be showing, and I could see when it was going to be cold so I could sleep somewhere warm, and lots of other things. The news was great.

Except, of course, when the news was not so great. After a few days, there was a news story that made me linger for a while longer in front of the window. A young red-headed woman was reporting. She wore a bright yellow blazer with the _Channel 9_ logo on it, and spoke in a way that was so pointed and direct that you could tell she was passionate about her work. She wasn't pretty, but more good-looking in a dangerous, "tell me what's up" kind of way. Normally, I liked her stories. This time, I did not.

"A few days ago, dozens of eyewitnesses reported seeing what they described as a 'green monster.' I have been informed that there were several police officers on duty in the area, and I'm here with Police Chief Sterns to discuss his official answer to the claims. Chief?" She presented her microphone to the man standing next to her. Sterns was a squat, heavy set Hispanic man man with a receding hairline and a vein on his forehead so big it looked like he was trying to chew a metal bar. He stood, straight backed and stiff, as he spoke into the mic.

"Well, Ms. O'Neil, obviously we at the department don't believe in monsters. But we are investigating the situation, and we'll let the public know when we have discovered whatever the problem may be, if there is one," he said, his voice as stiff as his body. The reporter, O'Neil, tilted her head, and thought the vein in Sterns' forehead would burst.

"Chief Sterns, I appreciate your time, and we have only a few more moments to take from you. I understand that you had officers in the area when the alleged 'monster' was seen. Can you please tell me what they called it in their official reports?" O'Neil said, giving the police Chief her biggest news reporter smile. Sterns swallowed, a massive lump going down the length of his short neck.

"Well, Ms. O'Neil, as I've said, we at the police department don't believe-"

"Right, of course not, but I just want to know what was documented in the official report? I have access to this document, naturally, but it would be probably be best if you told the people at home yourself? After all, you're police Chief, not me," she gave him a fake laugh, which he tried to imitate. It ended up sounding like he was coughing. The elderly woman next to me gave a quiet chuckle, her dark, weather-worn face crinkling at the eyes.

"Oh, that April. Never gives these poor men a rest, does she?" She said, shaking her head and walking away, chuckling to herself. So, April was her name. I turned my attention back to the little flickering screen.

"The, ah, official record goes down that an 'Unidentified Perpetrator' was-" Sterns was trying to say.

"You're missing something, Chief. Maybe I should read it, I do have it right here," April O'Neil produced a folded up piece of paper from the inner pocket of her blazer. "Right, here we go. You have here that an 'Unidentified Perpetrator of Unknown Species' was seen near the bay area a few days ago. Now, naturally, Chief Sterns, we wouldn't be referring to a minority as a 'Unknown Species' as it is the twenty-first century. So, what was it that your officer meant by that? Does it have anything to do with the recent unexplained attacks in New York?"

She let the question hang in the air for a moment, as Sterns continued to sweat and breathe heavily. After a few seconds, his grunted, holding up a hand.

"This interview is over," he said, his face as red as my band. April thanked him for his time before turning back to the camera and signing herself off. As the news cut back to the anchors, I continued my walk. I didn't know how many people watched _Channel 9,_ but I was guessing that at least a few people in the Big Apple would be keeping their eyes out for green monsters. Unfortunately for me, I fit the bill, and it would only be a matter of time before the police found me, or put out a bounty for some crazy person thinking he was a monster hunter.

Even more unfortunately, that time came much sooner than I thought.

I was digging around in a dumpster, trying to find something for lunch. At first, I had been disgusted at myself for doing it, but after a while I realized I had no choice. After all, it's not like anyone was going to hire a giant turtle. Sometimes, you could find mostly intact pizza boxes with a few slices left in them. This was not one of those times. I was waist deep in the dumpster when I heard a car door slam. I quickly pushed myself all the way in, closing the lid on top of myself. Gravel and snow crunched as another door slammed, and soon I heard two voices, both male.

"What are we doing here?" Came one of the voices, young sounding. Probably a teenager. There were footsteps, and the owner of the first voice sniffled against the cold.

"It's gotta be here," the second voice said. This one was deeper and rough, clearly an older person. The first voice sighed. They were only a few yards away from my hiding place, and getting closer every moment. I swallowed.

"I don't know, Casey. What makes you say that?" The first voice said, clearly not having much faith in the second.

"You remember last time? With the freakin' bat wing-nutjob?" The second voice said. The first sneezed. "Trust me, ok? I know a thing or two about hunting mutants."

 _Mutants._ Was that what I was? I hadn't remembered anything over the past two weeks, I was more focused on staying hidden and not starving or freezing to death. I still had no leads on why I had no memory. Mutant. Was that it? If so, who were these guys? Mutant hunters? I shook my head.

"Alright, well. I've already got a cold. So do your thing. I'll be in the car, Van Helsing. Call me if you need me," the first voice said, topping it off with another sniffle. "How are you not freezing with that thing on your face?"

"I barely notice it anymore," said the second voice, now dangerously close to the dumpster. I heard his breathing, and the shuffling of his feet. "No trust from freakin' kids these days. Think they know everything…" He muttered under his breath.

The dumpster opened. I was out of it in seconds. I knocked the guy, Casey apparently, aside, and took off down the alley. I didn't even get a glance at him.

"What the he- Keno! Keno, let's go, I got him!" He shouted behind me. I didn't look back, just kept sprinting, zig-zagging through alleys, taking wild turns. I had spent the past two weeks in this neighborhood, staying out of sight. I knew the back ways, and soon I no longer heard the heavy footsteps behind me. I laughed, tossing one glance over my shoulder, along with a middle finger, and as I turned around-

I ran directly into the front of a pizza delivery car.

I hit the bumper full speed, and rolled onto and off of the hood, before landing on the ground with a grunt. The beat up red car, complete with a little pizza triangle, hummed quietly, and a pair of people got out of the front seats. I watched them with fuzzy vision. The lack of food mixed with exhaustion had made the run with the car even worse.

"Is he dead?" Asked one of the passengers, the first voice. He was a young looking Filipino kid, with long black hair. He was bundled up in a bulky white jacket and a red scarf, and he was looking at me with confusion in his brown eyes. I felt sorry for the kid, even if I was the one that was causing the problems. Then, the second guy came into view, and any good emotions I had were out the window.

The guy was tall, with lean muscle all through his body. He wore a blue leather jacket over a dirty white shirt, and a ratty pair of dark jeans. His hair was long and dark, and hung around his shoulders, framing a scuffed white hockey mask. Over his shoulder was a golf bag, and I could see various sporting equipment sticking out of it. I groaned at the mere sight of him.

"Nah, he's not," Casey said, squatting next to me, his frozen breath filtering out from his mask. I frowned at him.

"Po...ser…" I muttered. I saw his eyes blink under the mask.

"Did… He just talk?" The teenager, Keno, asked. Casey waved a hand dismissively. I found new strength somewhere deep inside me.

"I said you're a poser," I said, sitting up. Casey stood, backing up a few paces. I pulled myself to a standing position, my primal urge to beat this guy's pretentious butt into the pavement urging me on.

"They've never talked before, Case. What if-" Keno started.

"Shut up, Keno," Casey said, holding out a hand at him. His other hand went to his back, and pulled out a long, black taped hockey stick. It looked like it had been busted up a few times and taped back together. "Now uh, what was that greeny? One more time?" He held a hand to his ear.

I slugged him in the gut, a satisfying grunt assuring me that I had knocked the air out of him. He was way taller than I was, but he was lanky. I had more bulk. He backed up, and I took another swing at his face, which he swerved and narrowly missed. Then, he came at me with a heavy overhand chop with the hockey stick. My hands went to my belt like lightning, but there was nothing there. I took the blow with a heavy _crack,_ and stars spun in my vision for a second. I stumbled around a few steps, but Casey gave me no time to recover. He rammed his shoulder into me, sending me hard into the brick wall behind me.

"Nobody calls Casey Jones a poser," he said, pointing a finger at me. "Especially not freaky lizard dudes with bandanas on their faces. What the heck is with that, anyway? No amount of bandana is gonna cover up all of that ugly, pal."

I growled, my senses coming back to me, framed in red. He was making me _really_ pissed off. He was going to regret it.

"Aw, what's the matter? I make you mad? Well, let's go, gecko boy! Show me whatcha got!" He jeered. I snarled at him, running forward and tackling him to the pavement. We rolled for a while, each trying to get on top, but my lower center of gravity gave me the advantage, and I found myself there. I swung a punch at his face, and only glanced his mask. The force of the punch was enough to snap the cheap elastic that held the mask in place, though, and I got my first look at what Casey Jones looked like. He had a square chin and dark eyes, with plenty of stubble and a missing tooth. He had a dozen little scars all over his face, and it looked like he had headbutted a wooden board or something.

"You're calling _me_ ugly? Look in a mirror lately, buddy?" I asked. He rolled us over, kneeing me in the gut. It didn't hurt too much, because of the shell, but it got us untangled and on our feet.

"Casey, he seems totally cognisant. Maybe we should-" Keno started to interject.

"Quiet, kid!" Casey and I said at the same time, not taking our eyes off of each other. We started to circle, having found respect for each other in the previous tussle. He knew how to hold his own, and he had a level of confidence that was actually impressive. We heaved frozen breath into the air for a few minutes. As I took him all in, my anger slowly went away. I dropped my fists.

"We don't have to fight," I said, surprising myself with my own sense of calm. I had found an opponent that I respected, and something about that made me feel content. Keno sighed in relief.

"Good," he said, holding out his hands placatingly. "Now, let's just talk about this."

Then, there was a rush of movement, a loud _crack_ , and I blacked out.

* * *

I woke up, to my surprise, in an alley. I was laying in a sleeping bag, a dirty pillow under my head. I was warm, and I could hear the crackling of a fire nearby. As I sat up, I rubbed my head. Sure enough, there was a large bump where Hurricane Casey had hit me. I groaned.

"Ah. So you are awake," came a wizened voice. My heart skipped a beat, and I looked around. It was late into the night, and the alleyway was only lit by the orange hues of the firelight. Across from me, huddled in a heavy grey blanket or cloak, was a person. I couldn't make out their form beneath their hood, but they wore gloves, and held a small cup of something in both hands. I found a similar cup next to me. "Drink. It will help with your head."

Living in the streets of New York, I had learned to take what I could get. I lifted the cup in my hands, thankful for it's warmth on my fingers, and drank it down. It was hot, but tasted completely awful, and I had to stop myself from gagging. I failed. A quiet laugh came from this stranger. I set the cup down gently, pushing it over to him and crossing my legs.

"What happened to those two guys?" I asked. The figure was silent for a second.

"They are fine. Something dissuaded them from pursuing you any further after they knocked you out cold like slice of turkey," he said. I could sense the humor in his voice. He had an accent, that seemed familiar. At first I couldn't place it, but then I realized. It was the same accent I had had when I first woke up… Who was this man?

"Do you mind if I ask who you are?" I said, squinting in the firelight. I couldn't make out his features, no matter how hard I tried. There was silence again, and the cup was brought inside the shadow of the hood before he spoke.

"I am an ally," he said simply. How cryptic.

"I guess nobody likes to show their face around this city, huh? You with your hood. Casey with that stupid mask," I said.

"You, with your band," the man said, pointing a slender, crooked finger at me. I stopped, and reached up to my brow. I had hardly realized it was there. That's what Casey had said about his mask. This band was just a part of my face. It had been there when I had woken up, and I hadn't taken it off since. The stranger and I sat in silence for another long moment, him sipping his tea and me trying to figure him out. To my surprise, it was him that broke the silence.

"Are you familiar with the Renaissance, by any chance?" He asked. I furrowed my brow, and racked my memory (an activity I was getting really tired of doing.) I nodded, recalling a few things that I must have been taught when I was in school… How long ago was that? I had no idea. The ideas were faint. The man hummed, sagely.

"There were many master artists in the Renaissance. The most famous, some argue, is Leonardo Da Vinci. However, there is one artist in particular that I think you should hear more about," he continued. "His name was Raphael. Raphael was a painter, well known for his ability to so beautifully capture emotion in his artwork. Now, Raphael was known to be a very promiscuous young man, having many women in his time. However, he always came back to his work. His art was his calling," the man set down his cup.

"Do you have a calling, young one?" He asked. I lowered my eyes to the fire, thinking. I watched as the flames flickered, and considered where I saw myself. What was my future? I couldn't stay hiding in the gutters of New York City forever, could I? Sooner or later, the police or Casey Jones or somebody even worse would find me, and I would be burned or experimented on or who knows what else. What was my calling? How could I know, if I barely even knew who I was.

"I don't know," I said, looking back up. "I guess I-" I stopped.

The man was gone.


	7. Chapter 7: An Understanding

I ended up backtracking, and hanging around the bay area. I looked around for the weapon I had stabbed into the telephone pole, but somebody had already taken it. Typical New Yorkers. I sighed, kicking at a bit of ice as I left the dock where I had first woke up. It had been a couple of days since my conversation with the old man in the hood. His words echoed in my mind. What was my calling?

As I walked, shoulders hunched and head low, trying as hard as I could to avoid being looked at too closely, a car pulled up next to me. A beat up red one. Oh no. The driver's side window rolled down, and I was greeted with the ugly mug of none other than Casey Jones. I crossed my arms. He looked me up and down.

"How do people buy that?" He asked, jerking his chin at my outfit. I rolled my eyes.

"What do you want?" I asked, tapping my foot. I didn't like standing around out in the open like this. It made me feel vulnerable. Casey swivelled his jaw a bit, tongue in his lip. It was Keno, from the passenger seat, that spoke up.

"We just want to talk to you, if that's ok," he said, leaning across Casey so I could see him. "You're the first mutant we've ran into that could… Well, talk. Think."

There he went with that word again. Mutant. Apparently, that's what they thought I was for sure now. I looked around my shoulders, making sure nobody was eyeing me. Then I grunted, opening the backdoor of the car and stooping inside. The upholstery was soft, and the whole vehicle smelt vaguely of cheese and marinara sauce, which made my stomach grumble. Keno, as if hearing my pleas, turned around, pointing to a big red bag next to me.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, as Casey pulled away. "There's some pizza in that… box," I was digging in before he finished his sentence. I was totally starving. A few weeks out in the cold could really take its toll on a turtle, I guess. I had finished a whole pizza before I leaned back contentedly, giving a sigh. Keno grinned, and Casey gave me a narrow eyed look in the mirror. I gave him an ugly face, and he turned his attention back to the road.

"So, let's get the interview started," I said, putting my hands behind my head. Keno stayed turned around, eagerness in his eyes. He was a bit older than me, from what I had gathered of my own age, but he seemed a lot younger.

"You can talk… Why is that?" He asked. I squinted.

"Probably because I was taught? Next question," I said. What kind of a question was that? Truth was, I didn't really know _why_ I could talk. Just that I could. I had a feeling that this interview was going to be pretty pointless, what with my memory loss. But, they had provided pizza, so I owed them at least something. Keno asked me a few more questions, like what I ate, where I slept, what I did. I answered truthfully: nothing, anywhere, and nothing. Casey scoffed at my answer.

"Well, mister mysterious, since you can talk you gotta have a name, right? What's your name?" He said, shooting me a suspicious look through the rearview mirror. Once again, I made an ugly face. Then, I paused. That was another thing I had been struggling with. My name. I had tried to give myself names that I had heard around. April and Casey weren't exactly names for a turtle ninja mutant, though, so I had always come up short.

In that moment, though, something clicked. A memory I didn't know I had. Something about a specific name felt right to me, and it came off of my tongue as if it was meant to be there. I didn't even think about it.

"Raphael," I said, "my name's Raphael."

* * *

It took us almost an hour, but the three of us managed to come to an understanding. Apparently, Casey and Keno were pizza delivery guys. Well, sort of. That's what everyone thought, but when they went out at night they would secretly go around being vigilantes. Originally, Casey had gone out on his own, but when he started working with Keno, he figured he would have to fill him in. The two of them worked well together, despite the constant disputes on morality.

In the past few months, there had been a couple of incidents that the police couldn't explain. Supposedly, monster attacks had been the link between these crimes. Casey and Keno considered themselves experts on what they called mutants. Of course, they didn't actually know very much. Just that some thing called Ooze transformed people and animals into rampaging creatures, and that the two of them were pretty good at tracking them down and beating them up, then handing them off to the proper authorities. They even had a stupid name for themselves: the Night Watcher. I had to suppress my laugh when they spilled that part.

By the time we had finished, Casey had been idling outside of an apartment building for a few minutes. Keno was still turned around, looking me over. He tilted his head.

"So...When was the last time you slept inside, Raphael?" He said. I raised my brow, and then shrugged. Keno gave me a youthful smile. "Well, I've got room in my apartment. My mom and dad work late nights, and my brother and sister know how to keep a secret. Do you want to-"

"Not a chance, kid," Casey said. Keno turned to him, eyebrows furrowed.

"What? Casey, you seriously just want to leave him out on the streets like a dog?" He protested.

"Dogs are a lot cuter," Casey said. I grit my teeth. "Look, your dad would freak out. He already doesn't like that you're doing late night 'deliveries' with me. If he found out you were housing a mutant… lizard thing, he'd have kittens."

"I'm a turtle," I said. Casey and Keno, who looked like they were about continue the argument, turned their heads towards me at the same time. Casey quirked an eyebrow. "What?" I asked.

"A turtle, huh? A mutant turtle…" He muttered. I scoffed.

"Don't forget ninja. I'm one of those too. What a freakin' train wreck I am, huh?" I shook my head, smiling wryly. The other too did not join in on my self-deprecating humor. They both looked like they had seen a ghost. I furrowed my brow. "What? Spit it out, numbskulls."

"Was it you? That day, almost a year ago," Casey said, now fully facing me. "Did you save my life?"

The way he looked at me was off. I couldn't place exactly how, but something was different in those dirty brick eyes. Maybe they were softer, maybe they were more suspicious than usual, I couldn't tell you, but when I looked Casey Jones directly in the eyes in that moment, something about the way I perceived him changed.

"No," I said, my voice softer than I had heard in since I had woken up. "At least, I don't think so. I can't really remember much from beyond a few weeks ago. I think I've got amnesia or somethin'. I woke up on the beach…"

From there, I recounted everything that had happened since that day. It wasn't much, so the story didn't take long, but the two of them seemed very interested anyway. When I described, in detail, my fight with the mugger, Casey gave a lopsided, missing-toothed smile. I carefully avoided mentioning the old man I had woken up next to, but other than that I told them everything. I felt like, all of a sudden, I could trust them. For the first time since I had lost my memory, I could actually trust someone. It felt… good. Once I had finished, the three of us sat in silence for a while, listening to the engine of the beat up old sedan hum.

"Alright, Keno, you better get inside. Quinn probably has homework, and I'm sure Paulo wants to play horse," Casey said finally, turning back to the windshield. I looked at him in the reflection of the car mirror. His eyes were distant, lost in thought. So, he had a brain after all. Keno nodded, said goodnight to the both of us, and got out, jogging to the entrance to the apartment building and going inside. I sat in the backseat for a moment, before Casey rolled his eyes. "I'm not a taxi, Raphael, come sit shotgun."

I paused for a second longer, before making my way to the passenger seat. I didn't bother to belt myself, (which could have been a death sentence, with someone like Casey at the wheel) and we drove away from Keno's apartment in complete silence. After we were stopped at a light, Casey cleared his throat.

"Keno gets on my nerves sometimes, but he knows how to keep a conversation going, at least," he said, eyes straight ahead. I shifted awkwardly in my seat, leaning against the window. The light turned green, and we took a turn, heading to a shiftier area of New York. And that was saying something. "Listen, Raphael- wow, that's a mouthful. Can I call you, like, Phil, or something?"

"Gross, don't call me Phil," I said. He gave a helpless gesture.

"Well how the hell else am I supposed to abbreviate some weird European name? Aphel? Ra? Raph?" He looked at me. "See? Those all sound-"

"Raph's fine," I said. He gave me a face that read _fair enough_ , and turned his attention back to the road.

"Well, alright, Raph, if you're gonna be staying with me we're gonna establish some house rules," he started to explain.

"Woah, woah. Staying with you?" I asked, incredulously. "Why would I do that?"

"Oh, would you rather freeze to death on the streets?" He asked in a mockingly sympathetic tone. I closed my mouth. He shook his head. "You're such a hot headed kid, you know that?"

"I'm not a kid, I'm… A teenager, I think," I said, keeping the scowl on my face. Casey whistled.

"Wow, teenager, _excuse_ me. How rude of me to confuse the two," he said, sneering through the windshield. "A mutant turtle ninja teenager, huh? Well, now I've seen everything."

I rolled my eyes, as Casey began to slow down. He eased the car into a small parking lot behind some kind of restaurant. I couldn't read the sign, since the neon wasn't working anymore, but I could smell the place from inside of the car. Pizza. Mouthwatering, greasy, cheesy pizza. Casey turned the car off, and the two of us got out. The cold air hit my face, and I pulled my hat low.

"Is… Is this where you live?" I asked, looking at the small building. "I don't see how you get off calling me homeless."

"No, this ain't where I live, you bonehead. I just gotta bring the delivery car back at night. Come on, it's freakin' freezing," he said, trudging through the slush down the sidewalk. I followed. "Now, like I said. We need some house rules. First of all, and most importantly, you need to stay out of sight, out of mind, all of that. Nobody can know you're around, especially not my roommate. Dig?"

"I _am_ a ninja, Jones. I can keep quiet. But why specifically your roommate?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. Maybe I was paranoid, but I thought I saw a shadow duck behind a wall.

"Well, you know how I roughed you up when we first met?" He said. I grunted in acknowledgement, still lingering on the shadow for a second. "Well she roughed _me_ up when she and I first met," he finished. I snorted a laugh.

"Next rule," he said, lowering his voice as he opened the door to the lobby and looked around, making sure nobody was around. The coast was clear, and he walked inside. I kept crouched, finding meager hiding places behind potted plants and sofas. "If you need to go to the bathroom, go outside. I am not cleaning up turtle poo in my apartment."

"What do you think I am, a cat?" I hissed from behind a cactus. "I'm housebroken, horse face." He swiped over a door, and the two of us climbed them rapidly. We weren't going to chance running into somebody in the elevator. When we reached the floor that Casey's apartment was on, I gave a grunt of surprise. The place looked pretty nice: fancy carpet, hardwood walls.

"How can you afford to live in this place, Jones? You're a delivery boy," I said, as we tiptoed down the hall. Casey scoffed.

"The place used to be a dump. I had a run in with a mutant, almost a year ago. Totally trashed the entire place, put me in the hospital. The city blamed it on a gas leak or something, and payed for the remodeling. Apparently, the building owner, Mrs. Branch, didn't want me to sue, so now I don't pay rent. It's pretty convenient," he said. As he did, a door opened up, to his left side. My heart jumped, and I moved quickly behind the door and out of view of whoever had opened it. I held my breath, keeping as silent as possible.

"Oh, _Casey,_ baby how you doin'?" Came a voice with a heavy southern drawl. There was a sound like a sloppy kiss. I peeked through the crack in the door to catch a sliver of Mrs. Branch. She was an enormous woman, with skin like coffee beans and hair as blonde as a 50's pin up. She smiled wide, with bright white teeth.

"I was just thinking about you, Mrs. Branch, I'm doin' alright. Long day of delivering pizzas," Casey said, his entire voice changing. He sounded more like a boy scout than a vigilante. Mrs. Branch clicked her tongue.

"As usual," she said. "I ought to go give that Louie a _pizza_ my mind, if you know what I'm sayin', making one of my baby's work every day of the week. Shame on him, and keepin' that poor baby Keno out all night too," She shook her head. "Well, I won't keep you. I just heard you talking to yourself and figured I'd say hello. Matter of fact I'm off to bed."

"Well, goodnight Mrs. Branch," Casey said.

"Goodnight, sweet pea," Mrs. Branch said, closing the door. I let out my breath, and Casey looked at me with wide eyes. We both covered our mouths to keep from laughing as he unlocked his apartment door. He stopped before opening it, turning to me and putting a finger to his lips. I nodded, staying off slightly to the side, behind him. He opened the door, looking around the room for any signs of life. There were none. We slipped in, closing the door slowly.

Casey's place was small, but in a comfortable way. Hell, it beat sleeping in a dumpster. If it got any colder outside, my next step would have been the sewer, and I did not want to stoop to that level. I crashed on the couch, for the evening, and Casey promised he would cover for me in the morning. He would keep Angel, his roommate, distracted long enough for me to slip out the window and up the fire escape until she left.

I settled in, warm for the first time in forever. I drifted to sleep in minutes, comfortable and deep.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Hey, folks! Hope you're enjoying the story so far. How do you feel about Raphael's amnesia? Any speculations on how it happened? What do you think about how Casey has changed since the last story? Let me know in a review! Thank you for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8: A Dangerous Development

That night, I dreamed of darkness. The world around me was black, and from somewhere in the void, there was a person talking to me. The voice was familiar, but I couldn't understand what it was saying. I could tell that they were words, but they didn't make any sense. Something in my mind told me that I should have been able to understand them, but no matter how hard I tried to focus on the voice, I just couldn't make it out. I grew annoyed with trying, and suddenly everything shifted.

I was on top of a mountain. Not a hill, but an actual mountain with rocks and snow on the very top. All around me was blue, vast stretches of sea and sky, and below me was a green, lush island. There were trees and rice paddies, and on the far end of the island was a city. Compared to New York it was a speck, but on the island it looked huge. The wind blew the tails of my bandana behind me, and as I turned to my side I saw a girl. I couldn't see any details. No face, no clothes, but she was short, and she opened her mouth to talk. I listened intently.

"Wake up, Raph," she said. I frowned. She sounded just like…

I was woken up by a frantic looking Casey Jones shaking my shoulders. I grumbled, trying to shove him away.

"Raph, come _on,_ dude! Angel is gonna be out of the shower any second, you gotta get _out,_ " he said, shaking me even harder. I was suddenly awake, remembering where I was. Casey's apartment. Specifically, Casey and _his roommate's_ apartment. I couldn't be seen. So much for ninja. I scrambled to my feet as Casey undid the latch on the window. He opened it for me as I made a mad dash, scaling the fire escape and out of sight just as I heard the bathroom door open.

"Casey, what are you doing?" I heard a female voice say. It was alto and no-nonsense, but a little tired sounding. I gulped. Casey stammered for a second, trying to find an excuse.

"Well, you know, I was just getting some, uh-" he floundered. I heard Angel sneeze.

"Close the window, it's freezing. I just got out of the shower, you nerd," she said. Casey quickly did as he was told, and the conversation became muted. I couldn't hear. I waited a few more seconds before breathing a sigh of relief and going up to the roof. I looked around the area. Casey's apartment didn't have that great of a view, but it was right in the heart of the city, and I took a deep, cold breath of New York City smog. What a way to start the day.

My nice morning was ruined by the dudes in black pajamas.

They appeared all at once, three of them. They wore black clothes, with red bandanas tied around their heads, and black masks covering their faces. Each of them had a sword hanging from their back, and they stood in a triangle around me. Ninjas. More of them, in New York? What were the odds? One of them spoke, and for a second I was confused. It was a language I knew, but one that I hadn't spoken in a very long time. It took a few moments to decipher what he was saying. Something about ' _finally finding me_.' Uh oh.

"Oh, you've been looking for me, huh?" I said, talking myself up. I didn't like my odds against three other ninjas, especially when they had swords, but there was no way I was going down without a fight. The same one spoke. He was slightly taller than the other two, with a silver symbol on his shoulder. It shined in the winter sunlight, and as I examined it I realized it was a three toed foot of some kind. I didn't bother to listen to what he said. "Look, you don't scare me, so quit trying."

I put up my fists defensively, and the ninjas looked at each other. That's right, punks, weren't expecting me to be so ready to rumble, were you? I looked between the two I could see, and pivoted in a slow circle, careful not to leave my back to any of them for too long. This kept going for a while. Eventually, I got sick of waiting.

"Too chicken to start it off, huh?" I said, shrugging my shoulders back, and bouncing from foot to foot like I had seen a boxer do on TV. "Alright, then, but you asked for it."

I ran forward, sending a spin kick at the head of the first ninja. He blocked it with his forearm, and twisted me so I flew back. I spun in the air, so I landed in a kneeling position. He said something along the lines of ' _you don't understand_ '. That got to me. It was one thing to ambush me, but mock me? No way. I ran forward, faking a right hook and then sweeping my legs out, dropping the ninja to the ground. He rolled away, coming up to a kneel, and his two buddies came up behind me, shouting in that language I could sort of understand. They grabbed for me, and I backed away, fists up again. The first ninja stood, brushing the dirty snow off of his clothes.

Then, there was a metallic clang. One of the ninjas held up a hand, and the three of them turned around at the same time. A second or so later, the stubbly face of Casey Jones poked up over the lip of the roof behind the three ninjas. His eyes widened.

"Ooh, bad timing?" He asked. Then, he fumbled with the golf bag on his back, pulling out his hockey mask and a metal golf club. He put the mask on, and walked up the rest of the fire escape, patting the head of the club in his palm. "No, wait. That's what you should be saying."

"Casey, be careful. These guys are ninjas," I said. He looked at me, with a deadpan expression behind his mask.

"No, really? I thought they were just a bunch of goth kids who got lost on their way to the pajama party," he said. I rolled my eyes. "Listen, guys. Halloween was last month. Now, I know that my little green pal here didn't get that memo, but there's no reason for you guys to follow the trend, mmkay?"

"Little?" I protested.

"Hey, quiet, green bean, the grown ups are talking," Casey said, holding up a hand. I squinted at him. Hadn't we gotten on the same page? Why was he harassing me? Either way, my blood was starting to boil. Man, did he get on my nerves. He gently caressed the golf club. "Now, stand back while mommy and daddy kick some ninja butts."

Without hesitation, he swung the iron full force at the head of the nearest ninja. In the blink of an eye, the silvery blade of his sword had intercepted the attack, with a _clang_ as the two metals collided. Casey took another swing, this time at the ninjas side, and again the sword was in the way. They were fast. Way faster than either of us. The ninja shoved Casey back, and he almost slipped on the snow. He backed his way towards me, and the two of us stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the three attackers.

"A lot of help you've been, so far," he muttered to me. I turned to him, a heavy scowl overtaking my face.

"Hey, would ya shut up, Jones? Or else once I'm done with these three wannabees I'm gonna come after you for dessert!" I shouted. Casey laughed (he actually _laughed_ at me! Ugh!) and shook his head, still eyeing the ninjas.

"Whatever, lizard boy, you wouldn't last ten seconds against me," he said. Then, he ran forward, taking another swing at a ninja. I growled, thoroughly fired up now. My vision was tainted red, and not just from the band around my eyes. My heart pounded in my ears. That rage. It was back. Things seemed to slow down as I rushed the nearest ninja, jamming my fist into his gut and taking a palm strike to the side of my head. It sent me reeling to the ground, but stubbornly, I got back to my feet and ran in again, swinging punch after punch at the ninja. His guard was too good, though, and I only got in a couple of real hits. On the other hand, he was clearly the more experienced fighter. After a few moments of figuring out my moves, he caught my punch, countered my sweeping kick, and pinned me on my back, forearm across my neck and legs strapping my own. I couldn't move.

There was a thought that hit me, just then. An idea I had not even considered using before. I tapped into my instincts. Not the sharp, trained in instincts of a ninja. Instead, I focused on something else inside of me. The reflexive, survival instinct of a creature of prey.

I focused on being a turtle.

First, my arms shrunk into my shell. Then, my legs, and finally, my head disappeared. I had retreated entirely into my shell. I heard confused comments outside, and chuckled to myself. Got ya, sucker. Then, I popped back out, rolling out of reach of the ninja and to my feet. He and I squared off, now, ready to re engage. I glanced over his shoulder to Casey, who was taking on the other two ninjas. He had just shoved one away, and the other one jabbed a palm into his gut, sending him back a few paces.

"Casey," I said, running up to my opponent. The ninja ducked beneath my heavy punch, and I struck him in the jaw with my knee. "Tee ball!"

The ninja I had kneed fell back onto his butt, and Casey took a quick swing. There was a meaty _clunk_ as the weapon made contact with his skull, and the ninja's eyes crossed. He collapsed onto his back. Casey gave me a thumbs up before one of the remaining ninjas kicked him in the face, and he was pushed back a few more steps.

I came up behind the other ninja, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down into a body slam. He struggled under my grip, but I held it like a vice, and after a few moments he was unconscious. I shoved him off of me, rising to appraise the remaining ninja and Casey. The ninja had knocked Casey's club out of his hand, and Casey had done the same to the ninja's sword, so the two of them were brawling with fists alone. Casey was losing sorely. The ninja was clearly trained in martial arts, and while Casey was a scrapper, he had no real technique. He was slower than his opponent, and was quickly losing ground, taking several kicks and punches to his face and body.

I waited for the right moment, bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet, feeling the rhythm of the fight, before I sprung. I swiped aside the ninja's attack, which was aimed for Casey, and struck him a punch to the face. He recoiled, pain in his eyes behind his mask, and snarled. He placed his fists into a fighting stance, but then looked to the ground at his allies. They were each getting up, although slowly, and they didn't seem to be in much shape to keep up the brawl.

Then, there was a flash of light and a loud _thwoomp_ as a cloud of dense, grey smoke surrounded the rooftop, attacking my lungs. I hacked and coughed, Casey right beside me, and fanned the smoke away from my face as it slowly dissipated into the chilly New York air. As my vision returned from the foggy depths of the smoke cloud, the ninjas were nowhere to be seen. I frowned. Casey let out one more cough, reaching down and picking up his golf club. He hummed slightly, and also retrieved the sword that lay next to it.

"We showed those punks, huh, Raph," The vigilante said, giving me a friendly punch to the shoulder. I grunted in response. I crossed my arms in a vain attempt to stay warm as a cold breeze blew across the rooftop, causing my bandana to flap, and the last bits of the smoke to disappear. I realized uncomfortably that I had left my coat and hat in Casey's apartment, and the wind bit even worse. Casey wiped sweat from his forehead, zipping his blue jacket up to his neck. Now that the adrenaline of the fight was dying down, we were both cold, tired, and hungry. "Now, how 'bout we go get some breakfast?"

* * *

We had picked up Keno on our way to the McDonald's drive-thru, and he hadn't waited more than a few seconds before asking us a string of questions. Did Angel see me? Why was Casey's nose bleeding? Ninjas? Real ones? How many? Where did they go? It went on and on like that until he finally put a McMuffin in his mouth to occupy it. We ate quietly for a few moments, parked in an alleyway. Once I had finished my McGriddle I started telling Keno how it happened, with Casey chiming in every now and then with a muffled comment from behind a mouthful of hashbrowns. When I had finished, Keno was as wide eyed as ever. Again I found myself feeling like he was younger than me, even though that wasn't the case. He had less cynicism, but a few more years. Part of me wondered if there was a metaphor there, but screw it. I just got attacked by ninjas.

"So you said they had red headbands?" Keno asked. I nodded. Casey leaned back in the driver's seat, giving a satisfied burp and putting his hands behind his head. Keno scratched his ear. "Well… I mean, you have a red headband."

"I know that, numb nuts," I said. Casey snorted, and Keno hastily tried to explain.

"Right, but like. You said you lost your memory right? So maybe you were one of these guys before, and something happened to give you amnesia," he said. I shook my head.

"Nah, these guys weren't anything like Raph," Casey piped up. I glanced at him. "For one, they were actually decent fighters. Put up way more of a fight then turtle boy did when he and I went at it. If I weren't there, no doubt that Raph would have gotten his shell handed to him on a silver platter."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Casey," I said, and he shrugged. "Ya know I'm still willing to give you that rematch."

"Not now guys," Keno said, in a mediating tone. It was my turn to shrug. "I mean, what are the odds that there just _happens_ to be another group of ninjas with red headbands in New York, and that they just _happen_ to come after you. There has to be a connection there, right?"

"Look, Keno, that makes a lot of sense, but I don't think so," I said, "I mean I don't even speak the same language as these guys. How could I have been one of them?"

"We can't rule it out as a possibility," he persisted, "if you can't remember anything, there's no way of knowing you _weren't_ with these guys."

"Well if I was one of them, why would they come after me like that?" I asked, getting a little agitated. I tried to stay calm. There was no need to get hostile with Keno.

"From what you guys told me, it sounds like you made the first move. Did they even try to swing their swords at you?" He asked. I looked at Casey, who had his eyes closed. I could tell he was listening, though, and he shook his head. I mirrored him, and Keno crossed his arms victoriously. "They weren't looking for a fight. They just wanted to find you, and from what I gather, that means you must be pretty important."

"From what you gather?" I asked, repeating him. Keno nodded.

"Think about it. The whole thing with ninjas is they're all stealthy, right? Stick to the shadows, leave no trace, whatever. These guys were on the roof of an apartment building in broad daylight. No way they'd do that unless it was absolutely necessary. Not to mention…" he let the sentence trail off and made an empty gesture at me. I squinted at him, and with a sigh he spit it out. "You're a mutant turtle, man. I don't feel like anybody would want you to just… be wandering around New York, ya know?"

"Yeah, I do," I said, after a few moments of silence that were probably painful for Keno. The crappy heater of the delivery car blowed between the break in our conversation, abnormally loud, and once he couldn't stand the quiet anymore, Casey sat up, putting the car in gear and pulling out of the alley.

"Alright, well, glad we settled that. Now it's time for us to get to work. The pizzas ain't gonna deliver themselves," he said. Then, he snorted a laugh. "Now I'm just picturing pizzas walking around with legs and faces. How weird would that be?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Thank you for taking the time to read_ Raphael! _The story is coming along quite well, and some fun stuff is still on the horizon. I really appreciate any comments or feedback you have regarding the story, so don't hesitate to review, and stay tuned for more._


	9. Chapter 9: Missing a Piece

It was a long day of delivering pizzas. Louie's was very popular, and apparently it was only growing. I spent most of the day with my head buried in the collar of my jacket and under the brim of my hat, which led to a serious crick in my neck. By the end of it, I was just about sick of riding in a car.

"If I never sit in a car again," I said, as I finally rose from the back seat and stretched high into the air, "it will be too soon."

Casey and Keno were off duty, and the sky had gone dark hours ago. We were parked behind Louie's, and Casey was digging around in the trunk of the delivery car. He pulled out a golf bag, and from it he produced his hockey mask and a wooden baseball bat. Slamming the hood of the trunk, he slung the bag over his shoulder and headed off in a direction, Keno hot on his heels and me lagging a bit behind.

"So, Raph, I've been thinking," Casey said, not bothering to look back at me. "Your particular skill set would be pretty useful when it comes to crime fighting." I snorted.

"Whatever," I said, plunging my hands deep in my jacket pockets as a car drove past, it's headlights piercing the darkness of the night, and my comfort in being unseen.

"Casey thinks he's Batman," Keno said, with a clear grin on his face. I raised a brow.

"Who?" I asked. Casey and Keno both spun to face me, shocked looks on their faces, and I held up two hands in defence. "What did I do?"

"You've never heard of Batman?" Asked Casey. I shook my head and he rubbed his temples. "You've gotta be kidding me. He's like, the most iconic superhero ever. The caped crusader, man, the Dark Knight!"

"Is he like you?" I asked. Casey shrugged, and I saw a small trace of worry on Keno's face. Casey's energy dropped slightly, and I realized I must have struck a soft spot.

"More than a little bit," Casey said quietly. We rounded a corner and the two of them wordlessly began to climb a fire escape ladder. I followed suit, slightly ruffled by the awkward silence that came after. We made our way to the roof of an apartment building about a block away from Casey's, and Keno took a pair of binoculars and a police scanner from Casey's bag, looking around in wide arcs. Nobody said a word, and I cleared my throat after a minute or so.

"So… Batman. Tell me about it," I said, trying to break the frozen silence, made colder by the winter air. "He fight crime? With a bat, like you? Is that why they call him that?" Casey scoffed.

"No, he doesn't _use_ a bat," he said, leaning against a maintenance closet and crossing his arms. "He dresses like one. To scare criminals."

"So he does fight crime," I said. Casey grunted, and Keno went to the far end of the roof, apparently watching something specific. I heard a buzz as he turned on the scanner. I dug a small groove in the snow beneath my foot. "So… Why does he do it?"

Casey looked at me, and though I couldn't see his face behind the painted hockey mask, I could tell he was giving me a silent question. I scratched the back of my neck, and shrugged a little. For a moment I fumbled for words, which made me get a little angry. My skin heated up, and I ground my teeth. I furrowed my brow, trying to stay calm and piece together the sentences.

"Like, Batman, ya know," I said, walking back in forth in a small loop. "Why does he fight crime? Does he do it for fun, or what." Casey turned away from me, swinging his bat lazily and looking up at the sky. The lights and smog of the city all but covered up the stars, but the moon was faintly visible behind the dark grey clouds. I waited for Casey to respond, and as I did, the grey clouds burst, and snow began to fall. At first, it was small flakes, but as I watched, it came heavier and heavier, large balls of frozen water falling out of the sky. Casey held out a hand, and the snow landed on it, melting slowly into his palm.

"Found something," Keno called over. Casey and I turned to him. He had his ear pressed against the police scanner, and was listening intently. The two of us made our way over to him, and I started to pick up what they were saying.

"... _suspects in all black, armed. Requesting backup. Copy, three suspects in all black, armed. Can I get some back up,_ " came a voice over the scanner. Keno and I looked to Casey, who nodded, patting the head of his bat into his palm.

"Time to go to work," he said.

We made our way across the rooftops, to the street where the police officer had relayed himself. Casey and I made quick work of the relatively small gaps between buildings, but Keno struggled to keep up. In one heart-stopping moment, his foot slipped on a hidden patch of ice, and he began to plummet straight towards the concrete. Instinctively, I dove, grabbing his arm and the side of the roof, and hung there dangerously. Keno and I both let out short cries of distress and Casey doubled back, hoisting me and, subsequently, Keno up onto the rooftop. The three of us sat, breath heaving, for a few moments, until Casey dusted the snow off of his hands and stood up, taking off once again towards the crime scene. Shrugging off Keno's multiple "thank you"'s, I took off after him.

We arrived at the address a few minutes later, and crouched down on the roof, surveying the scene. Off to one side of the street was a parked police car, it's lights flashing, but no sirens blaring. On the opposite side of the street, in front of an army surplus store, was a large black van, it's back door open. There was a figure perched in the back of the van, and two more bent over in the store, with a few large duffel bags lying around. They were robbing the place. I turned to Casey, and I could see the cobweb covered gears spinning in his head.

"What're you waiting for? Let's clobber these guys," I hissed. Casey shook his head wordlessly, and Keno kept his eyes on the scene. I could sense his nervousness. I shifted my weight restlessly.

"Something ain't right," muttered Casey, and I rolled my eyes. Now that I could see the misdeeds in action, I was itching to fight. I thought back to the mugger however many weeks ago, the feeling of exhilaration I got when I had stopped him. On top of that, "three armed individuals in all black" sounded pretty familiar, and I felt responsible for handling them.

"Yeah, you're right," I muttered, "we ain't kicking ninja butt yet."

"Don't be so hasty, Raph," Keno muttered. I growled. These guys were wasting time. Soon the ninjas would have whatever it was the came here fo and be gone. I wasn't about to sit around waiting for them to finish their dirty work. I got up from my crouch, some snow falling off of my knees, and starting making my way down a nearby fire escape.

"What the hell are you doing?" Casey hissed after me. I ignored him, scaling the side of the building and landing lightly on my feet. I crept up to the corner of the next building, keeping my eyes locked on the shadowy figures I was gaining on. I could faintly hear Casey and Keno calling to me from the rooftop, but they weren't willing to get noticed, and the wind mostly carried away their voices. I made a quick dash to some cover behind a parked truck, and caught my first glimpse of the officer inside of the squad car.

She had black hair, landing just above her shoulders in a bob cut, and her uniform seemed a size or two too big for her. She was Asian, Japanese I thought, and too serious for one seemingly so young. Her forehead was set in a deep crease. Oddly, her eyes weren't even on the crime scene, but were aimed upwards, scanning the rooftops. I frowned. Casey was right. Something was definitely up.

Just then, a hand from behind me latched onto my shoulder, with intense strength. I whipped around, attempting to pull away, but whoever it was had me tight. I didn't shout or anything, knowing that it would alert the ninjas and the strange officer, but I lashed out with a vicious kick. Casey let out a muted grunted as my foot landed square in his gut. I couldn't see his face, but there was murder in his eyes. He gave me an obscene gesture that I returned, and then leaned in close, so that we could talk in harsh whispers.

"What the hell, Casey," I spat. He made a noise between a scoff and a gasp.

"What the hell me? What the hell you! Why did you run off like that, what if they saw you? You think you could take three of them on your own? You and I together could barely handle these guys," he responded. I was quiet for a second. He definitely had a point; I hadn't thought up any sort of plan. I was just tired of waiting around until one of us did. I looked at my toes, six in all, green as the rest of me. I muttered an apology, and Casey let out a heavy sigh.

"So what do we do?" I asked. Casey was the adult here, after all. Not only that, but he had more experience fighting bad guys than I did. I stowed my temper, for the time being, and prepared myself to listen to him. Before he got the chance to speak however, the door of the squad car opened, and the woman got out. She pulled out her gun, an old fashioned revolver, and approached the store.

"Stop! Put your hands in the air," she shouted, with a very thick accent. It was the very same that the old man from the other night had, and the one I myself had once had, many weeks ago. The feeling of uneasiness only grew inside of me. There was definitely a piece of the puzzle that I didn't have here. I looked to Casey, who shrugged. We peeked out from behind the truck.

The woman was gone. Nowhere to be seen. She had stopped, mid shout. The three ninjas continued to do their jobs, their faces hidden, as they shuffled around behind the counters. I looked to Casey again, and this time he nodded. He pulled his hockey stick from his golf bag, and the two of us took off at a run, charging towards the store. I was faster than Casey, and beat him inside, flying over the counter and tackling the first person in black that I encountered. There was a heavy sound of metal slamming onto concrete, and as I turned around, I saw criss-crossing metal bars had cut off the store from the outside. Not only that, they had separated Casey and I.

I turned back to the person I had tackled, pulling away his mask. He was a white guy, with a bushy red mustache and a receding hairline. He was more than a few pounds overweight, but the thing that stood out most to me was the heavy cloth that had been balled up and shoved in his mouth. He was trying to say something frantically, struggling underneath me. I saw the raw fear in his eyes, and I realized it was not just because of the hostage situation he was experiencing. He was scared of me. Terrified. I went to the second guy, and found him to be similarly gagged. Both of their hands were bound in front of them.

"They're decoys," I said to Casey, as I finished checking the second guy. "Casey, we gotta-" I turned, and found Casey at the bars, along with someone else. The police officer was standing behind him, and had brought him to his knees, a short _wakizashi_ sword pressed to his throat, making his Adam's apple bulge. She had discarded her police officer disguise, and donned the clothing of what she really was. A ninja. She wore all black, with a red headband tied around her forehead, and the same stone-like scowl on her face. She was speaking to me in the same language that the other ninjas had. I realized, now, that it was Japanese. I focused intently on listening to her. Slowly, but surely, the words started to make sense.

"Hello, brother. Ah, you understood me that time, didn't you," she said. I clenched my fists.

"Let Casey go," I said, in English. Her eyebrows knit even closer together.

"/Ugh. What is that ridiculous accent you've picked up?/" She said, her voice dripping with contempt. She waved it aside. "/It doesn't matter. It's a good thing I finally found you. I have a feeling if I had waited any longer you could have been beyond saving./"

"What are you talking about? Who are you, what do you want with us?" I asked, getting angry now. Why had she called me brother? Why was she so familiar? Why did I speak Japanese? There was a piece missing. What was it? The questions screamed in my mind, and they overwhelmed me. I could hardly think. The woman watched me intently, watching me think for a while before she spoke.

"/Shinzo, it's your sister. Karai. Remember?/" She said quietly.

Then, it all came back to me.


	10. Chapter 10: Falling into Place

_I was on a boat, surrounded by Foot Ninja. The waves were choppy, but the wind was warm and the sun was bright, with hardly a cloud in the sky. I surveyed the horizon, hoping for any sign of land. Birds, I had heard somebody say once, would mark land, since they needed somewhere to rest their wings. I saw no such sign._

 _We had been on the water for a couple of weeks now, and I was becoming sick of eating dried fruit and meat. Occasionally, we would catch some fresh fish, but this was a very rare occasion, and since we hadn't brought any spices, it didn't do much to enhance the bland meals we endured. The tasteless food, paired with the constant rocking of the boat, made my stomach less than comfortable in the half month or so we had been at sea. Karai, however, didn't seem to mind, and if she did, she didn't show it. Of course, she was like that. She never showed weakness._

 _She and I had separate quarters on the ship, while the Foot Ninja who escorted us found their own places to sleep on the rest of the ship, with three of them awake at all times. According to Karai, it was to avoid pirates attacking us in our sleep. That sounded strange to me, since from the day we had last seen our home of Tamashi Island, we had encountered no other ships._

"/ _You can never be too careful,/" Karai had warned. I had nodded, an empty gesture. Sometimes I felt that my sister over analyzed things. I felt that, on occasion, it was best to just let your heart guide you. Instincts were just as good as book smarts, in the right times. She would disagree, if I ever proposed the idea, though._

 _The boat wasn't terribly small. It was large enough for the crew of us to live comfortably, and on some days it felt nice to lay on the solid polished wood of the deck and bask in the warmth of the sun. Sunbathing could only take me so far in the way of passing time, though, and the white vessel soon began to feel smaller and smaller. By the time we had reached the end of the month, I was getting antsy. Any day, now, we were supposed to see land. America, at long last, would be under our feet._

 _That was when the storm hit._

 _Lightning, thunder, rain and waves pelted us. We struggled to stay in the boat, let alone remain on course. We lost a few Foot Ninja overboard, and couldn't afford to retrieve them in the awful weather. It lasted for hours, with the lot of us huddled below deck as well as we could. Eventually, however, the water began to seep into the below deck. When it had reached our waists, we realized that staying down there would be as much a death trap, if not more, than the deck, ando so made our way up._

 _Here was where my memory got foggy. In the darkness and the mist of water and lightning, there were two figures. One was bright, almost as bright as the lightning that seared the water around us. The other was small and dark, nearly imperceptible without the aid of the lightning flashes. As they arrived, a loud thunderclap shook the deck, stunning me and tossing me to my stomach. Through blurry vision, I saw Karai clutching a handrail and shouting at the top of her lungs. I heard nothing, as water and wind rushed past my head. She seemed to be speaking with the two figures. I rolled towards the side of the ship, and grabbed onto the side as tightly as I could. The dark figure turned to me then. I couldn't see their face, but I felt their gaze. They tilted their head, as I felt the last of my strength leave me, and I was tossed into the waiting, hungry ocean. From there, it was nothing, until I woke up in the snow covered bay of New York._

* * *

All of these memories flashed in front of me, as I stared at my sister from behind the bars that blocked the entrance to the army surplus store. She watched me, and a look of what seemed like relief washed over her as she saw the recognition return to my eyes. She tossed Casey aside, and he was quickly snatched up by waiting Foot Ninja. She lifted the bars and approached me.

"/Sister,/" I said, in perfect Japanese, walking towards her. "/Karai, I…/" I held my head, the sudden rush of memories causing it to pound. I was filled with conflicting memories and emotions. For the most part, they washed away as Karai placed her arms around my neck, pulling me into a tight hug that I returned.

"/I thought you were certainly lost,/" she said. I looked past her shoulder, to the dirty snow that had begun to be replenished with the heavy white flakes from the sky. Slowly, but surely, my body lost its strength. I dropped to my knees, burying my face into my sister's shoulder, and I cried. Deep, racking sobs that nearly caught her off balance. She rubbed the back of my head gently, and whispered to me in a calming voice. I didn't hear her words, though. My mind shut down, in an attempt to distract me from the dichotomy of thoughts I was experiencing. There were too many things to be considered, and with a painful heave, I let myself fall back into the comfort of a familiar face, and I cried for a long time, weeping into the gentle and forgiving arms of my only sister.

 **End of Book 2**

* * *

 **Next time...**

Three brothers. Three turtles. For 14 years, Leonardo, Michelangelo and Donatello have trained in the ancient art of Ninjutsu under the watchful eye of their father and mentor, Master Splinter. Deep in the sewers of New York, they remain hidden from the eyes and threats of the world above. Soon, however, a danger from _below_ threatens to tear their family apart. Can the three brothers learn what it means to be true ninja in time to save themselves?

 **Coming up next:  
Phase 1: Origin  
Book 3: TMNT: Origins**


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